


A Profoundly Stupid Bond

by namupokemanchan



Series: A Profoundly Stupid Bond [1]
Category: Supernatural, The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Dean Winchester, Bisexual Number Five | The Boy, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, F/M, John Winchester and Sam Winchester Fight, Not Canon Compliant, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Protective Sam Winchester, Trans Female Character, bullets enter humans, someone ends up being a trans woman, uwu
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:53:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 22,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27522601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/namupokemanchan/pseuds/namupokemanchan
Summary: Supernatural season 1 but with Number Five long for the ride because they are my favourite character in every piece of fiction ever
Relationships: Dean Winchester & John Winchester, Dean Winchester & John Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, John Winchester & Sam Winchester, Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy) & Winchester Family (Supernatural)
Series: A Profoundly Stupid Bond [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2011567
Comments: 40
Kudos: 101





	1. And Leave The Pot, My Dear

Dean and Sam had heard about the shooting in a shitty bar a few weeks after leaving the haunted Roosevelt Hospital. As usual, Dean was tipsy and flirting with equally drunk women and Sam was flipping through newspapers, looking for jobs. His eyes rested on an article on the third page of the second newspaper he picked up. 

The headline **_Violent shooting in local diner_ ** wouldn't normally be the Winchester brothers' concern but Sam read further. Details like "attacker seemed to disappear" and "the detail and skill of someone who had been killing for centuries" were definitely out of the ordinary though; definitely something worth investment. 

Sam approached his brother, stepping between him and the blonde girl he was flirting with. "Dean."

"Sorry sweetheart." Dean sighed and got up from his bar stool, walking a few meters away to talk to Sam. "Look, I've almost got-"

"Shut up, Dean." Sam quickly cut across him and held up the newspaper, tapping the article. "I've got us a job."

Dean scanned the article and glanced back at the girl he had been flirting with. "Fine, but we can't start until tomorrow morning, right?"

"Yeah-"

He cut off Sam, smiling slightly. "Good. See you in the morning."

* * *

The waitress looked shaken up as Sam sat down across from her in the only diner booth that wasn't bloodstained. 

He smiled, attempting to be reassuring. "It's okay, just tell me everything you saw, miss…?"

"Agnes." Agnes the waitress said shakily. "I, um… I was working the graveyard shift and this little kid came in. Like really little, could barely see over the counter, and he ordered a black coffee then… um… these people in masks came in. Five or six and…" she took a shaky breath. "He killed them."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "The kid?"

Agnes nodded and jumped slightly as blood dripped off the ceiling onto the table. 

"Alright, uh… can you describe him?"

"Short kid, pale, brown hair, he was wearing a school uniform and the logo matched his, uh, his tattoo." 

Sam's brow furrowed. "What did the tattoo look like?"

Agnes grabbed a pen and pad of paper and drew an umbrella inside a circle. "He had that on the inside of his wrist."

The younger Winchester smiled politely and took the piece of paper from her. "Thank you, you've been a big help."

"Oh god, dude. You do not want to see those bodies. Still can't tell if there were five or six." Dean grimaced and dumped his fake FBI blazer on the motel couch. "So what do you think did it? Vampire? Werewolf?"

Sam shook his head and opened his laptop. "Vampire wouldn't leave all that blood and a werewolf would have taken their hearts."

Dean shrugged and kicked off his shoes. "Demonic possession, maybe? Most demons don't go for kids, but that little shit had to be supernatural."

Holding up the piece of paper from the waitress, Sam typed something into his laptop. "I think this has something to do with it."

"Nice. You got her number?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "No, Dean. Agnes said the kid had this tattoo. So I'm thinking it's a vengeful spirit."

Dean raised an eyebrow and took the paper from him. "Pretty damn vengeful to have that much killing mojo. What's the big deal about the umbrella tatt?"

"You've never heard of the umbrella academy?" 

"The Umbrella what?"

Sam turned around his laptop. "The Umbrella Academy was a group of children adopted by a billionaire named Reginald Hargreeves because he thought they were superpowered." The laptop screen showed a portrait of an old man with a monocle standing behind seven children in identical uniforms, all with Umbrella logos.

"So you think one of these kids killed all those people? Damn, I mean, superpowers and billionaire dad sounds pretty fucking sweet, definitely not a reason to come back and kill."

Sam continued reading. "…Hargreeves' funding was cut once it got out that he was running dangerous experiments on animals, particularly chimpanzees, as well as his children."

"I stand corrected," Dean commented, grimacing. 

"…Which were taken away after an explosion that caused the deaths of two people and fourteen chimpanzees in the academy."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "I stand very much corrected. What happened to the bodies of the kids?"

Sam scrolled through the article. "…the remains of the children were cremated and can be viewed in the Hargreeves crypt."

Dean's expression was a mixture between disgusted and confused. "Viewed. Gross. How's the kid still haunting if he's been cremated?"

Sam looked up from his laptop. "There's probably still, y'know, parts in the basement. From the experiments."

"Great…"

Thankfully, the Umbrella Academy was only about a mile from the town. It looked like it was once an impressive building but hadn't been properly taken care of in years. The garden was mostly dead and the plants that were still alive were overgrown past the first floor windows. It almost looked like it was still lived in, apart from the boarded over front door, which after many attempts, Dean was unable to kick down. 

"Shouldn't this be rotted anyways?" He grunted, kicking the door harder. 

Sam rolled his eyes and reached his hand through a shattered window pane to open the window, which was big enough to crawl through. "You done, Rambo?" 

Dean scowled and moved to slide his feet through the open window. "I knew this was here."

"Sure you did," Sam said sarcastically, following his older brother through the window into a dusty entrance hall. 

Surprisingly, there was light up the stairs that didn't match the weak sunlight permeating through the windows. A bright yellow light presumably dimmed by a lampshade came from the second floor. 

Noticing the light, Dean loaded a few rock salt rounds in his gun and Sam did the same. 

The younger man tested the bottom step of the staircase, which creaked loudly. The light faltered and went out quickly, followed by the sound of a door slamming. 

"I think he knows we're here," Dean said unnecessarily, following his brother up the staircase to where they heard the door slam. 

"Or it's a squatter," Sam supplied, avoiding a stair that had rotted through. 

Once they were on the second floor of the academy, there were more sounds of doors and windows slamming, like they were looking for a way out. Dean grabbed an iron poker from the fireplace and dragged it along the baseboard before whistling like he was calling a dog. 

Sam pointed his flashlight at Dean and raised an eyebrow. "Really, Dean?"

"What? Ghosts come out when they're pissed." He smirked and whistled again. "Come on out, Casper!"

Sam rolled his eyes again but jumped back as a chair dropped down in front of them off the upper floor balcony. 

Dean looked up in time to see a flash of blue light and the silhouette of a child disappearing. "That's the bitch!"

They followed the flash up to the third floor, Sam holding the flashlight and Dean shooting a couple of holes in the walls. 

"You're wasting bullets, Dean." His brother complained quietly, moving his flashlight over the doors. 

"We have enough rounds to take out an army of ghosts, Sammy. This son of a bitch is going down no matter what."

There was another flash of blue light in the hallway and the portrait of the family from the article was dropped down on top of Sam, knocking him back down a few stairs. Dean dodged the painting and ran up the rest of the staircase, reloading his gun. That son of a bitch was going down for sure now. No one fucked with his brother. 

Sam had recovered from the painting falling on him and was a few steps behind Dean when he pulled the trigger and shot the silhouette of the child. 

There was a strangled noise of pain and a small thud as the boy collapsed on the floor. 

Sam pointed the flashlight at the heap on the floor, revealing a small boy in a white dress shirt quickly soaking through with blood. "Shit Dean, I think you shot a kid." 


	2. Agent Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The injured boy introduces himself

_Shit shit shit **SHIT-**_

Dean crouched down on the floor next to the boy, pressing two fingers to the side of his neck. He could feel a pulse and sighed in relief. Thank god, the kid was unconscious but not dead. 

"We need to get him to a hospital," Sam said shakily, moving his flashlight to focus on the bloody rips in the boy's shirt. 

"A hospital? We shot him Sam, how do we explain that?" Dean said, on the verge of yelling. 

His brother shoved the flashlight into his hands and slid his arms under the unconscious boy. "First of all, you shot him so let's get that straight. I guess we could take him back to the motel room. Y'know, if no one sees us carrying a corpse."

"Jesus Sam, he's not a corpse!" Dean hissed, taking the flashlight from him so Sam could carry the unconscious boy. 

"He will be if you can't stop the bleeding."

The drive back to the motel room was excruciatingly uncomfortable. Sam sat in the backseat with the boy's head on his lap, regularly checking his pulse while Dean drove the impala, eyes switching from the road to the rearview mirror. In all of Dean's years of hunting, he had never seriously injured a human, let alone a kid. 

The bottom left quarter of his shirt was covered in blood and fell open as Sam and Dean carried the unconscious boy into the motel room, revealing a blood covered moonscape of small indents and tears across his stomach. 

Sam set him down on the bed and cringed as his brother closed the door and locked it. "Good shot, but… ugh."

Dean ignored his brother as he pulled out his pocket knife, using it to cut off his accidental victim's sweater vest and dress shirt off and dumping his bloody clothes in the motel room trash can.

"What the hell was a kid doing killing people anyways?" Sam asked, digging their first aid kit out of his duffle bag and setting it down on the bed next to him. 

"Beats me," his brother replied, examining the wound. "Get me a wet towel, would you?"

Who knew salt could fuck up someone so much? It took over ten minutes for Dean to clean all the salt out of the wound along with the clotting and dried blood spattered across the boy's stomach. 

He dropped the dirty towel into the trash can and turned to Sam. "What are we going to do with him once he wakes up?"

Sam shrugged, cracking open a beer can. "No idea. I mean, he is a criminal."

"He's like nine, though." Dean turned back to the injured boy, who was groaning softly and beginning to move. 

He shook the kid's shoulder gently. "Hey kid, you good?"

The boy opened his eyes and quickly pushed himself away from Dean, grabbing the knife off the bed and pointing it at him. "I'm not going back," he said, voice shaking almost as much as his hands were on the knife. "You tell him I'm not going back!"

Dean backed away from the bed, holding his hands up to show that he wasn't holding anything. "Hey, hey. We're not going to hurt you."

"Then what the fuck is this?" The boy yelled, his voice cracking as he moved the edge of his blazer aside to show his wound. Wincing softly, he dropped the knife and collapsed onto the mattress. The boy made a strangled noise of pain, clutching his stomach. 

"It's okay, kid," Sam said, keeping his voice as calm and even as possible. "My name is Sam Winchester, what's yours?"

The boy narrowed his eyes, blood running through his shaking fingers. "You really don't know who I am?"

Sam shook his head. "No, my brother Dean-" he pointed to him "-and I heard about you in the newspaper."

"Thought you were a ghost though," Dean added, cleaning out the barrel of his shotgun. 

The boy hissed at Dean, grabbing the knife again. "I'm not talking with you here, jerk off."

Sam gave his brother a look and he sighed, putting his gun down and getting up. "I'll get food or something. Don't kill anyone."

The boy scowled at Dean's back as he left the motel room and didn't turn back to Sam until he had left. "My name is Number Five. Agent Number Five." Number Five dropped the knife and held his small pale hand out to Sam. 

He took the boy's hand and shook it. "Nice to meet you, uh, Number Five. Where are your parents?"

Five rolled his eyes and pulled a joint and lighter out of his blazer pocket. "Dead or as good as, and anyways I'm old enough to live on my own," he deadpanned, lighting the joint. 

Sam stared at him, biting back his anti drug speech. "You can't be older than thirteen."

"I'm 59 next October, Winchester. Didn't your parents ever tell you to respect your elders?" He laughed, taking a drag on his joint. "Probably better if they didn't."

Sam blinked. He had seen and heard some very strange and unexplainable things in his time, but never grown men in the bodies of children that can kill. Especially not at the rate Number Five could. 

It didn't make sense but nothing in his life made sense. So he could go with it. 

"You're really- what, fifty eight?"

Five nodded, exhaling slowly. "That's right. And if you're not with the fish, why were you and your trigger happy brother looking for me?"

Sam thought for a moment, debating over what to tell him. "We uh, we hunt things."

"Things like ghosts?"

"Yeah, sometimes. Demons too. We killed a shapeshifter in Saint Louis one-time." He was smiling slightly now. "You've got the same MO as a demon or a vengeful spirit."

Five beamed. "I'll take that as a compliment. So that's why you tried to kill me?"

"Yeah, sorry about that." Sam apologized awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"I've been hit worse. Got a kidney and half my spleen ripped out in Massachusetts by a witch hunter." The older man laughed coldly, staring at the lit end of his joint. "Just buy me some new clothes, hunter."

As probably insane and definitely unhinged murderers went, Number Five was very agreeable. He explained that the people in the diner were trying to kill him and that the shooting was self-defense gone six kinds of out of control. The whole reason he was in town and "this godforsaken decade" was because he was searching for his family and the first place that made sense to check was the Umbrella Academy. 

"That shit hole was our childhood home," Five said through a mouthful of curly fries dipped in milkshake. "So that's the first place I checked, y'know? But that place is a dump so I'm shit out of luck now."

"So what are you going to do now?" Sam asked, propping his chin up with his hand. 

Five said nothing but stared across the tiny motel table at Dean, watching him pick up a bacon cheeseburger. "Not sure. I think better when I've eaten."

Sam turned to his older brother too, giving him a very specific look and Dean rolled his eyes and handed the burger to Five, who eagerly dug into it. 

"Probably going to hitchhike til I reach California. My sister lives there as of two months ago." He wiped grease off his face into his blood stained blazer sleeve. "God, this is so good."

Five finished the burger in less than five minutes and leaned back in his chair, sighing and licking his fingers. "What did you call those again?

"Burgers," Dean deadpanned. "Damn kid, how don't you know what a burger is?"

The time traveler scowled at him. "I live off rats, cockroaches and god awful coffee and protein drinks. That's why." Making a face, he got up from his chair and stretched. Five ran his fingers through his hair before climbing onto the bed Dean had cleaned him up on. 

"That's my bed," Dean protested, getting to his feet. 

Five raised his eyebrows. "You shot me, and you're demanding things from me? No wonder you're homeless with your little brother."

He put his hands up in a show of good faith and sat back down. "Alright, kid, alright." Dean covered his mouth with his hand. "Little shit," he mumbled under his breath to Sam. 

Five fell asleep very quickly which concerned Dean enough that he checked the man's wounds and pulse to make sure he was alive. Once he was sure, Dean kicked off his boots and flopped onto Sam's bed. 

"So what are we going to do about him?" 


	3. Have Fun With Your Issues

Sam and Five woke up to the sound of Dean's phone ringing on the motel's bedside table at an unholy hour of the night. Groaning, Five pulled Sam's pillow away from him and buried his face into the pillow in an attempt to block out the noise. 

"Make it stop," Five hissed, holding the pillow over his ears and poking Sam's shoulder. Dean had dumped him onto his brother's bed in the middle of the night and Five was too tired and hurt to fight back. 

"Dean." Sam said, sitting up in bed and glancing at his brother's phone. 

When Dean didn't wake up, Sam picked up his phone and flipped it open. "Hello?" He asked, adopting his phone voice. 

"Sam, is that you?" It was John Winchester's voice. 

"Dad? Are you hurt?" Sam asked, panic rising in his voice but not so obvious that his father could tell. 

"I’m fine." He said, ignoring the discomfort in his son's voice. 

Sam let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding in and Five sat up next to him, looking interested for the first time. "We’ve been looking for you everywhere. We didn’t know where you were, if you were okay-"

"Sammy, I’m all right." John replied, cutting off Sam. "What about you and Dean?"

"We’re fine." Sam glanced at the shirtless man sitting next to him with a bloody open wound. "Dean shot someone but they're okay. Dad, where are you?"

"Sorry, kiddo, I can’t tell you that. And Dean did what?" John asked, sounding concerned. 

"What? Why not?" 

"Is that Dad?" Dean asked, sitting up in his bed. 

John sighed in that special way he reserved for his youngest son. "Look, I know this is hard for you to understand. You’re just gonna have to trust me on this."

Sam bit back an annoyed response. "You’re after it, aren’t you? The thing that killed Mom."

Five raised his eyebrows, listening intently to the conversation and ignoring the fresh blood coming from his wound. Finally something interesting about this wacked out family that hunted ghosts.

"Yeah." The oldest Winchester said after a moment of silence. "It’s a demon, Sam."

"A demon?" Sam repeated, sitting up straighter. "You know for sure?"

"A demon? What’s he saying?" Dean asked, sounding annoyed. 

"A demon?" Five echoed, propping his head up on his hands.

"I do. Listen, Sammy, I, uh…I also know what happened to your girlfriend." John was silent for a few seconds. "I’m so sorry. I would’ve done anything to protect you from that."

Sam clenched his free hand into a fist. "You know where it is?

"Yeah, I think I’m finally closing in on it."

"Let us help." Sam said quickly. 

Dean rolled his eyes and sighed, holding his hand out to him.

"You can’t. You can’t be any part of it.

Sam moved away from his brother "Why not?"

"Give me the phone."

Dean and Five were both listening very intently. Five rolled his eyes and climbed out of bed, holding his hand over his wound. 

"Have fun with your daddy issues," he huffed, pulling on his blazer that Sam had gotten back from the Academy. "…Motherfucker calling at 1 am…" he rolled his eyes and ignored Dean shooting daggers at him while he walked into the bathroom. 

"Listen, Sammy, that’s why I’m calling," John said in the commanding father tone Sam had been so used to hearing directed at him. "You and your brother, you gotta stop looking for me. Alright, now, I need you to write down these names."

"Names?" Sam asked incredulously, annoyed that his father was dismissing his concerns after he had spent months looking for him with Dean. "What names, Dad—talk to me, tell me what’s going on."

John sighed exasperatedly. "Look, we don’t have time for this. This is bigger than you think, they’re everywhere. Even us talking right now, it’s not safe."

Sam was used to being pushed aside and he was fed up. "No. Alright? No way."

"Give me the phone." Dean repeated, opening and closing his hand expectantly. 

John deflected his youngest son's indignance as usual. "I have given you an order. Now, you stop following me, and you do your job. You understand me? Now, take down these names." 

Dean finally leaned forward and snatched the phone from his brother after a brief silent struggle over it. "Dad, it’s me. Where are you?" He asked. 

A brief pause.

"Yes, sir." 

Another pause. 

"Uh, yeah, I got a pen. What are their names?" Dean grabbed the motel issued pad of paper and pen off the bedside table.

An hour later and after a few arguments, the Winchester brothers and Number Five were in the impala and on the road again. 

"Remind me why we brought the freak show with us?" Dean asked Sam as he glanced at Five in the rearview mirror. 

Five scowled at him and pressed his face against the cold window. "It's too early for talking," he mumbled. 

"Because we can't dump a teenager at two am," Sam replied to Dean, pushing his bangs out of his face before turning back to the road. 

"I'm older than both of you combined," The aforementioned teenager not teenager said slightly louder and quite huffily. 

"Plus he's really good with a gun," Sam added, not responding to Five's complaint. "Better than you at least."

Dean gave him a look but didn't say anything.

"Where are we going at satan's hour?" Five asked, sitting up and sticking his head between Dean and Sam's seats as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. 

"Hunting." Sam glanced at Dean. "Alright, so the names dad gave us- they're all couples?"

"Three different couples," his brother confirmed. "All went missing."

"And they’re all from different towns? Different states?" Sam asked, turning back to the road and mundane green scenery. 

"That’s right. You got Washington, New York, Colorado. Each couple took a road trip cross-country." Dean looked back at the hotel pad of paper with the couples names written on it. "None of them arrived at their destination, and none of them were ever heard from again."

"It's a big country, cowboy," Five pointed out, looking more awake than ever. "They could have disappeared anywhere."

"Yeah, could’ve. But each one’s route took ‘em to the same part of Indiana. Always on the second week of April. One year after another after another." 

Five closed his eyes for a second before opening them again and staring at Dean. "This is the second week of April."

"Yep." Dean conformed, not questioning Five. 

"So, Dad is sending us to Indiana to go hunting for something before another couple vanishes?" Sam theorized, adding the puzzle pieces together. 

"Yahtzee. Can you imagine putting together a pattern like this? All the different obits Dad had to go through? The man’s a master." The adoration was apparent in Dean's voice. 

Sam rolled his eyes and pulled over, causing Five to slide to one side of the backseat. Turning off the car, he closed his eyes in annoyance.

"What are you doing?"

"We’re not going to Indiana."

Five flopped onto the backseat. "Thank God. Can we-"

"We’re not?" Dean asked, a mixture of confused and shocked. 

"No." Sam said, also ignoring Five. "We’re going to California. Dad called from a payphone. Sacramento area code."

"Sam." Dean's voice had a warning edge to it. 

"Dean, if this demon killed Mom and Jess, and Dad’s closing in, we’ve gotta be there," His brother protested. "We’ve gotta help."

"Dad doesn’t want our help."

"I don’t care."

"He’s given us an order," Dean pointed out, prompting Five to roll his eyes exaggeratedly.

"Fathers are bastards, Dean, personally I-"

"I don’t care," Sam said firmly. "We don’t always have to do what he says."

Five huffed and started digging through the duffle bag he had stolen before they left. 

"Sam, Dad is asking us to work jobs, to save lives, it’s important."

"Alright, I understand, believe me, I understand. But I’m talking one week here, man, to get answers. To get revenge." Sam explained, rambling slightly. 

"Alright, look, I know how you feel," Dean said, trying and failing to sympathize. 

"Do you?" Sam snapped. 

Dean blinked, not expecting that tone from him. 

"How old were you when Mom died? Four? Jess died six months ago. How the hell would you know how I feel?" Sam's voice shook slightly and he wasn't looking at him.

Five looked up from his bag, holding a small bag between his teeth. 

"Dad said it wasn’t safe." Dean said, quiet annoyance in his voice verging on anger. For any of us. I mean, he obviously knows something that we don’t, so if he says to stay away, we stay away." 

"I don’t understand the blind faith you have in the man. I mean, it’s like you don’t even question him!" Sam yelled, hand on the car door. 

"Yeah, it’s called being a good son!" Dean shouted back. 

"God, I hate men," Five mumbled, taking a few pills from the bag and flopping back on the seat. 

Both of the brothers left the car angrily, Dean yelling as they both slammed the doors behind them.

"You’re a selfish bastard, you know that? You just do whatever you want. Don’t care what anybody thinks!" Five heard Dean yell at Sam. 

He rolled his eyes again, waiting for the brothers to come back. 

"I will leave your ass, you hear me?" Someone shouted, followed by silence for a few seconds.

The driver's side door opened and Dean got in, breathing harder than normal. He gripped the steering wheel and glanced back in the side mirror. 

"Where's Sam?" Five asked, leaning his head against the driver's seat. 

"California." His hands tightened on the steering wheel. 

"Huh. I'm calling shotgun then." Five crawled into the passenger seat. "Where to?"

"Indiana."


	4. And Scarecrow Makes Three

Dean took his phone out of his pocket and brought up Sam's number. He stared at it for a few moments before powering down his phone and putting it away. Sam could call him if he wanted to talk. 

Dean poked Five awake. "Hey kid. Number Five."

"Don't touch my lungs!" Five yelled before noticing Dean. "Morning, Winchester. What's up?"

He stared at Five for a few seconds. "Right, yeah. Burkittsville, Indiana."

Five wiped the drool off his cheek and pushed open the car door. "Let's go kill a- something."

"You really don't understand hunting." Dean pointed out, following him out of the Impala. 

"Don't need to." Five dragged his shoes along the ground as he walked towards Scotty's Cafe. "I have never ever liked hick towns. 

Dean rolled his eyes and gestured to the sign. "Let me guess," he said, pointing to an old man sitting on the front porch. "Scotty?" 

"Yep," the man said. 

"Hi, my name’s John Bonham," Dean lied, ignoring Five's snicker. 

"Isn’t that the drummer for Led Zeppelin?" Scotty asked, giving them both weird looks. 

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Wow. Good. Classic rock fan."

"What can I do for you, John?" Scotty finally said.

Dean rifled around in his pocket before taking out two pieces of paper and unfolding them to reveal Holly and Vince Parker's missing person posters. "I was wondering if, uh, you’d seen these people by chance."

The cafe owner took the posters from Dean and studied them. "Nope. Who are they?" 

"Friends of mine. They went missing about a year ago," Dean explained. "They passed through somewhere around here, and I’ve already asked around Scottsburg and Salem-" 

Scotty cut off Dean and shoved the posters back to him. "Sorry. We don’t get many strangers around here." 

Dean nodded and tucked the posters back into his pocket. "Scotty, you’ve got a smile that lights up a room, anybody ever tell you that?"

"What the fuck," Five mumbled under his breath. "Who broke your brain?"

Scotty stared at both of them strangely and Dean chuckled awkwardly. "Never mind. See you around." 

"What the hell was that about?" Five asked Dean as they walked over to the next store on the block. 

"Shut up," he huffed, pushing Five away. 

Rolling his eyes, Five poked Dean's side. "You're so bad at talking to people."

Five hung back outside while Dean talked to the people in Jorgensen General Store, lighting a cigarette. People stressed him out, especially when it came to talking to them. He took a drag on his cigarette and leaned against the wall of the store. 

"You sure they didn’t stop for gas or something?" Dean asked after showing the pictures to the people in the store. 

The older man Harley showed the pictures to his wife Stacy, who shook her head.

"Nope, don’t remember ‘em. You said they were friends of yours?" Harley said, echoing Dean. 

He nodded. "That’s right." 

A blonde girl came downstairs carrying a stack of cardboard boxes. She set them down on the counter and turned to Dean. "Did the guy have a tattoo?"

"Yes, he did." 

She glanced at the picture of Vince and looked up at Stacy and Harley. "You remember? They were just married."

Harley nodded, looking like he had just remembered. "You’re right. They did stop for gas. Weren’t here more than ten minutes."

"You remember anything else?"

"I told ‘em how to get back to the Interstate. They left town."

"Could you point me in that same direction?"

Harley shrugged. "Sure."

Five looked up when Dean left the store, quickly butting out his cigarette and following him to the Impala. "Was your couple here?" 

"Yup." Dean climbed into the driver's seat. 

They drove in a surprisingly comfortable silence for two men highly trained in shooting things until Dean drove by the orchard.

"What the hell is that?" Five asked, glancing into the backseat. "Low tire pressure?"

"Nah, I just filled them up." Dean pulled over and reached into his bag, pulling out the EMF meter. It was beeping frantically, the lights flashing red. 

They both got out of the car, Dean looking for anything supernatural and Five generally dicking around. He pulled an apple off a tree and bit into it loudly before Dean shot him a look. "What? We haven't eaten all day." 

Dean ignored him, walking around the orchard until he saw the creepiest scarecrow in the universe tied up to a high post. He walked over to it and looked at it for a second before Five noticed it too. 

"Dude, you're fugly."

"Ten bucks says that's the bitch that killed them," Five said through a mouthful of apple. "That is the scariest thing I've ever seen, and I grew up in the 90s. We had purple ketchup." 

Dean gave Five a weird look before studying the scarecrow further. There was a sickle in the scarecrow’s hand and a design on its arm that caught his attention. He looked around for a few seconds before taking a ladder from a nearby tree and climbing to the top so that he was eye level with the scarecrow. 

"If it eats your soul, that's your problem," Five called up at him from the ground. 

"Still not how hunting works," Dean replied, moving the scarecrow's shirtsleeve to reveal a design identical to Vince’s tattoo. After comparing it to the flyer, he grimaced at the scarecrow again. "Nice tatt."

Five shuddered in his seat as they drove back to Burkittsville. "So they turned their skin into a scarecrow or something?"

"Something like that," Dean said, shifting his grip on the steering wheel. 

Leaning back in his seat, Five exhaled and crossed his arms behind his head. "Old people are batshit, man. Like I know I'm old and I'm definitely batshit, but I'm not making shit out of people."

Dean laughed drily as he pulled up to the Burkittsville gas station. "You are the oldest and strangest person I know and I could definitely see you doing a little arts and crimes."

He got out of the car and smiled at the same blonde girl from the general store. 

"You’re back." She said. It wasn't a question. 

"Never left."

"Still looking for your friends?" She asked, sounding genuinely concerned. 

Dean nodded and glanced at her name tag. It was an excuse to look at a woman's chest. Or a man's if he was feeling it. "You mind fillin’ her up there, Emily?"

She grabbed a pump and started filling up Dean’s tank.

"So, you grew up here?" He asked, leaning against the Impala. 

Emily nodded. "I came here when I was thirteen. I lost my parents. Car accident. My aunt and uncle took me in."

"They’re nice people."

"Everybody’s nice here."

"So, what, it’s the, uh, perfect little town?"

"Well, you know, it’s the boonies. But I love it." Emily smiled brightly. "I mean, the towns around us, people are losing their homes, their farms. But here, it’s almost like we’re blessed." 

Dean nodded. "Hey, you been out to the orchard? You seen that scarecrow?"

Laughing, Emily hung up the gas pump. "Yeah, it creeps me out."

"Whose is it?"

"I don’t know. It’s just always been there.

He noticed a red van parked by the garage and nodded towards it. "That your aunt and uncle’s?"

Emily shook her head. "Customer. Had some car troubles."

"It’s not a couple, is it? A guy and a girl?" Dean asked quickly. 

Emily nodded. "Mmhmm."

Dean shot a worried look at Five, who had heard everything from the car.


	5. The Scarecrow

Most people got annoyed when they were hungry, but Five got down right mean, verging on vicious. Him and Dean both agreed they should check for the couple at Scotty’s Café. For their sake and Dean's; Five was getting snappish. 

When they walked into the cafe, Scotty was serving a couple, presumably the one whose car broke down. He set two plates of apple pie in front of them and Five audibly sighed at the smell. 

The couple and Scotty gave him a weird look before Five covered his face with his sleeve and sat down at the closest table. 

"Oh, hey, Scotty. Can I get a coffee, black?" Dean asked, sitting down across from Five.

Scotty nodded and walked away to get it.

"Two coffees," Five mumbled, staring down the couple's pie. 

"Two coffees," Dean corrected. "Oh, and some of that pie, too, while you’re at it. Gotta keep this boy fed."

Five scowled but said nothing, currently eating the sugar out of the packets on the table. 

"How ya doin’? Just passing through?" Dean asked the couple, hanging his arm over the back of his chair.

The couple waved and smiled. 

"Road trip," the girl said. 

"Hm. Yeah, me too," Dean agreed. 

The couple nodded as Scotty walked over and refilled their cider.

Five glared at Scotty. 

"I’m sure these people want to eat in peace," he told Dean gruffly. 

"I want to eat, period," Five muttered. 

"Just a little friendly conversation," Dean said as Scotty walked away. "Oh, and that coffee, too, man. Thanks."

Scotty and Five both scowled, the latter leaning his head on the table. 

Dean turned back to the couple. "So, what brings you to town?"

"We just stopped for gas," the girl explained. "And, uh, the guy at the gas station saved our lives."

Dean nodded. "Is that right?"

"Yeah, one of our brake lines was leaking," the man added. "We had no idea. He was fixing it for us."

Five rolled his eyes. "What the fuck are cars?" 

Dean's smile tightened. "Nice people."

"Yeah."

"So, how long till you’re up and runnin’?" Dean asked. 

"Sundown."

"Really." He nodded, thinking about it for a minute. "To fix a brake line?" 

The man nodded.

"I mean, you know, I know a thing or two about cars. I could probably have you up and running in about an hour. I wouldn’t charge you anything."

"You know, thanks a lot, but I think we’d rather have a mechanic do it." The girl turned back to her pie. 

"Sure. I know." Dean sat in silence for a few moments. "You know, it’s just that these roads. They’re not real safe at night."

The couple exchanged a look. "I’m sorry?" The girl asked. 

"I know it sounds strange, but, uh—you might be in danger."

The man scowled at Dean. "Look, we’re trying to eat. Okay?"

"You are the most socially awkward person alive," Five mumbled. 

"Yeah-" Dean kicked him under the table. 

The couple exchanged looks. 

"You know, my brother could give you this puppy dog look, and you’d just buy right into it," Dean said, ignoring Five's kick back. 

"Sam's surprisingly comfortable for a man that lanky," Five said vaguely, chewing on the end of his fork. "I usually don't trust tall men but he's alright."

The bell above the café door jingled and a man in the classic small town police uniform walked in and Scotty came out from a back room. "Thanks for coming, Sheriff."

Dean glanced at them, anxiety visible in his face. While Scotty whispered something in the sheriff’s ear, Five gave Dean a look and nodded towards the door. As the sheriff approached them, Five scowled at him. He hated the police on impulse as a criminal, husband to a Black woman and someone who gave a shit about minorities. 

"I’d like a word, please," the Sheriff said. 

Five dropped his fork. "I'll give you two: suck-"

Dean laughed awkwardly and kicked him again. As little as he respected law enforcement for getting in the way with his work and generally being incompetent, he wasn't looking to be arrested. "Come on. We're already having a bad day already.

The Sheriff leaned forward, making the gun on his hip visible. "You know what would make it worse?"

Dean nodded slowly, getting to his feet. Five scowled and followed suit.

"If you and your… son could just follow me outside," the Sheriff said, opening the cafe door. 

"Fine," Five huffed. "But I'm not leaving without food." Faster than anyone expected, he snatched the woman's piece of pie off her plate and shoved it into his mouth. "Lemfs go."

Dean didn't blame him, the pie smelled great. 

While the Sheriff was driving them out of town, Five turned to look at Dean in the seat next to him. "How do you think Sam's doing?"

He glanced at the pie filling smeared over Five's face and the police car in the rearview mirror. "Couldn't be worse than us."

Five mulled on the thought for a moment. "Probably not. You get in trouble with the cops a lot?"

Dean chuckled, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel. "Sometimes. Usually because they're being idiots while I'm just doing my damn job."

"Yeah, me too," Five agreed, smiling at Dean. "Can't a man- person or whatever do their jobs without the police getting on your ass?"

"Heh, yeah. So back to the orchard?"

"Absolutely, I'd love to see to that scarecrow again. At night. In the dark."

* * *

"I can’t believe it. We just got the car fixed," the girl from the cafe huffed, trudging through the orchard. 

"This way," the man said, leading her towards a clearing. There was a flash of something behind them and the girl gasped, grabbing his arm. 

"Steve?" She squeaked.

"Who’s there?" Steve asked.

They both turned around to see the scarecrow emerging from the darkness. Steve and his girlfriend both froze, almost at the clearing when Dean ran in front of them.

"Get back to your car!" Dean yelled, cocking his shotgun. "Go, now!"

Five sighed and gestured to the road with his gun. "Go! You're so- Go!"

They both bolted for the clearing as Dean pointed his gun and shot the scarecrow, which stumbled but kept walking. Dean kept running, cocking his gun again and stumbling slightly as he shot the scarecrow again. 

"Aim, idiot!" Five rolled his eyes and shot it in the head until his gun was out of bullets. Despite the bullets not working, his aim was impeccable and his skill was undeniable. 

The scarecrow was completely unaffected. 

"Who's the idiot now?" Dean yelled back and tried shooting it one more time, but the scarecrow kept moving. 

"You!" Five snapped, disappearing momentarily and reappearing in the clearing, panting slightly. 

Finally, Dean and the couple reached the clearing. Dean cocked his gun and looked around, but the scarecrow had disappeared.

Steve glanced up at Dean, panting. "What—what the hell was that?"

"Don’t ask," he said, glancing at Five. "When were you going to tell me that you could teleport?"

"It's not teleportation, it's the manipulation of spacetime to move forward at accelerated speeds." Five straightened his jacket. "And you owe me ten bucks."


	6. Freakin' Apple Pie

Stacy, Harley, Scotty and the sheriff were standing in the rain, very much upset. 

"You don’t understand, Harley," Scotty huffed. "All of us here—It’s our responsibility to protect the town."

"I understand," Harley said, almost sounding sad. "Better than all of you. I’m the one that gives ‘em directions. I’m the one that sends ‘em down to the orchard."

"Harley, please," Stacy sighed. 

"We all close our doors. Look the other way. Pretend we can’t hear the screams," Harley mumbled. "But this is different, this—this is murder."

"It’s angry with us. Already the trees are beginning to die. Tonight’s the seventh night of the cycle. Our last chance!" Stacy begged. 

If the boy has to die, the boy has to die. But why does it have to be her?" Harley asked. 

"Should it be the little one or the fake John Bonham?"

They say nothing for a few seconds before Stacy sighed. 

"I think we all know who it should be."

Dean woke up in a dark cellar, rubbing the back of his head. "Jesus Christ," he mumbled. "What the hell is wrong with these people?"

Five pulled his hand away from his nose, coming away with a handful of dried and congealing blood. "Why did they hit me in the face? Why were they rougher with me than you?" 

Dean cringed. "I think they broke your nose, man. That looks messed up."

Five laughed uncomfortably and wiped his face on his sleeve. "Reminds me of how it felt when I got my ear ripped off in France."

"What is your life, Five? Damn." 

Suddenly, the cellar door opened and Emily from the gas station appeared at the top of the stairs. Both of the men in the cellar blinked in the change in light, Five choosing to shade his eyes with his non bloody hand. She was crying hard and being held by her aunt and uncle.

"Emily?" Dean asked. "What the hell?"

Stacy and Harley pushed Emily into the cellar and she looked up at them, tears running down her face. 

"Aunt Stacy! Uncle Harley!" She sobbed. "Why are you doing this?"

"For the common good," Stacy said solemnly as she slammed the cellar door shut, plunging them back into semi darkness. 

They all sat there for a few seconds, quiet except for Emily crying, until Dean turned to Five. "Do your teleporting thing."

He laughed, more out of nerves than anything. "My what?"

"Your teleporting thing!" Dean repeated. "Teleport outside and unlock the door."

"I can't teleport," Five huffed, wiping blood off his face. "I move forward real fucking fast. Why don't you try headbutting the door, hm?" 

"Because that's stupid."

"So is teleporting not teleporting into a metal door!"

"What are you talking about?" Emily asked, wiping away her tears. 

"They're going to sacrifice us to a fertility god," Dean explained. "For apples." 

She looked up at him. "I don’t understand. They’re gonna kill us?

"Sacrifice us. Which is, I don’t know, classier, I guess?" He got to his feet and sat down to her. "You really didn’t know anything about this, did you?"

"About what? The scarecrow god? I can’t believe this," she shook her head and laughed nervously. 

"Well, you better start believing, cause we're gonna need your help," Five said, moving to sit in front of her. 

She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and something in her gaze hardened. "Okay."

"Now, we can destroy the scarecrow, but we gotta find the tree," Dean explained. 

"What tree?"

"Maybe you can help me with that. It would be really old. The locals would treat it with a lot of respect, you know, like it was sacred," he said, trying to describe something he didn't understand as best as he could. 

Emily thought for a moment. "Well there was this one apple tree. The immigrants brought it over with them. They call it the First Tree."

"Is it in the orchard?" Five asked quickly. 

She nodded. "Yeah, but I don’t know where." 

The cellar door opened and their four captors were standing there. "It's time," Stacy said. 

After some dragging and a very uncomfortable car ride accompanied by more dragging, the townspeople were tying Emily and a very tearful Five to two scraggly apple trees growing next to each other. 

"Please don't kill me," Five begged, struggling at the ropes. "Please, that's my- my father back there, he'll be ruined."

"Don't worry, he'll be sacrificed next year," the Sheriff explained, tightening his bonds. 

Realizing that his distraught child act wasn't working, Five stopped crying instantly. "How many people have you killed, Sheriff?" He spat. "How much blood is on your hands?"

"We don’t kill them." He tightened the ropes even more so they were digging into Five's skin. 

"No, but you sure cover up after," he hissed. "I mean, how many cars have you hidden, clothes have you buried?" 

The sheriff walked away, ignoring Five. 

"Uncle Harley, please," Emily begged. "Please don't do this." 

"I am so sorry, Em. I wish it wasn’t you," Harley said uncomfortably.

"Try to understand. It’s our responsibility. And there’s just no other choice. There’s nobody else but you," Stacy explained. 

"I’m your family," her niece pleaded. 

"Sweetheart, that’s what sacrifice means. Giving up something you love for the greater good. The town needs to be safe. The good of the many outweighs the good of the one," Stacy said in the creepiest way humanly possible before getting up and walking away with the rest. 

"I hope your apple pie is freakin’ worth it!" Five yelled. "Fucking assholes!" 

"So, what’s the plan?" Emily asked. 

"I’m workin’ on it," he said, trying to wiggle out of his ropes. 

Many hours later, Emily turned back to Five. "You don’t have a plan, do you?"

Five huffed, yanking at his ropes. "I’m workin’ on it. Can you see?"

"What?"

"The scarecrow!" He snapped. "Is he moving yet?"

"I can’t see," She sighed. 

A shadow staggered towards them from behind the trees. "Oh my God. Oh my God!" Emily snapped. 

As it moved closer, Five yanked desperately at his ropes. "Dammit, dammit, dammit-"

Dean and Sam both stepped out from behind the trees.

"Five?" Dean said, crouching down and pulling at the ropes. 

Five laughed in delight. "Oh! Oh my God! I’m so happy to see you. Come on." 

Sam began untying Emily from the tree. 

"How’d you get here?" He asked as Dean untied him. 

"I, uh—I stole a car," Sam said, smiling awkwardly. 

Dean cackled. "Haha! That’s my boy!" He finished untying Five who instantly hugged him. 

They sat there awkwardly for a few seconds, Five burying his face into Dean's chest. "You've got so many muscles," he mumbled. 

Dean very awkwardly pulled away, turning to Sam. And keep an eye on that scarecrow. He could come alive any minute."

His brother glanced into the trees. "What scarecrow?" 

Dean glanced up to see the scarecrow’s post empty and exchanged a nervous look with Sam. 

"I hate Indiana," Five snapped as they ran through the orchard. "I hate Indiana, I hate Indiana, I hate-"

"We got it!" Emily yelled. 

"Alright, now, this sacred tree you’re talking about—" 

"It’s the source of its power," Dean said. 

"So let’s find it and burn it."

"Nah, in the morning. Let’s just shag ass before LeatherFace catches up."

"You know in Britain, shag means-" Five trailed off, stopping when they reached the clearing where Harley, Stacy, Scotty and the Sheriff were standing. 

"Please. Let us go," Emily begged her aunt and uncle. 

"It’ll be over quickly, I promise," Harley said. 

"Please," Emily repeated. 

Her uncle sighed. "Emily, you have to let him take you. You have to—"

All of a sudden, the scarecrow appeared, stabbing his sickle through Harley’s stomach. Emily and Stacy screamed before Stacy was dragged off by the scarecrow along with her dead husband.

Emily wailed and ran into Dean’s arms while her aunt and uncle were dragged away.The rest of the townspeople ran away, panicked. 

Five rolled his eyes. "So she can hug you and it's all-"

Dean cut him off. "Come on, let’s go."

They stand there in silence for a few seconds, looking around and breathing hard. The scarecrow and his victims had disappeared, leaving nothing behind. 

There was a noise and Five instinctively clung to Sam's side. "I don't want to be murdered." 

He patted Five's shoulder. "You're not getting murdered. No one's getting murdered."

In the morning, they all walked to the sacred tree with gasoline and a lighter. Five ran his fingers over an engraving carved into the tree. "Isn't that Vince's tattoo?" 

Sam took a step forward, dumping gasoline on the tree. Five backed up and straightened his jacket. "Alright, burn that bitch down."

Dean picked up a long branch and lit it. "Who wants to do the honors?" 

"Let me." Emily took the branch from Dean. 

"You know, the whole town’s gonna die," he said. 

"Good." She threw the burning branch onto the tree as they watched. 

Five reached out and lit a joint on the flames. "God bless Indiana."

They dropped Emily off at the nearest bus stop and she smiled at Dean, who waved to her. 

She waves back. "Take care of your son!" Emily called and took a seat.

They watched the bus leave in silence for a few seconds. 

"Think she’s gonna be alright?" Sam asked. 

"I hope so." Dean said. 

Five frowned. "I know I called myself your son when I thought I was going to get murdered but I look nothing like you. I'm strikingly handsome."

"Just like me." Dean snarked. "So, can I drop you off somewhere, Sammy?

"No, I think you’re stuck with me." Sam said, getting into the passenger seat of the Impala. 

Dean got into the driver's side. "What made you change your mind?"

Five beamed and curled up next to his bag in the backseat. "Me. He's desperately in love with me."

Sam reached back and punched his arm. "I didn’t. I still wanna find Dad. And you’re both pains in my ass." 

Dean nodded, smiling slightly.

"But, Jess and Mom—they’re both gone," Sam continued. "Dad is God knows where. You and me. We’re all that’s left. So, if we’re gonna see this through, we’re gonna do it together."

Dean paused and dabbed at his eyes. "Hold me, Sam. That was beautiful."

He put his hand on Sam’s shoulder, who hit it away, laughing.

"You two should be kissing my ass, you were dead meat."

"Yeah, right. I had a plan," Five huffed, rolling his eyes. "I’d have gotten out."

"Right," Sam said, nodding. "Sure."


	7. Trans rights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone's trans. Also like, murderous themes

Sam liked having Five around and so did Dean, not that he'd ever admit it. Just because he'd saved Five's life, shot Five, shared a bed with Five and pretended to be his father all in around a month didn't mean he needed to show his feelings. 

Five liked them too. He liked being around people who didn't think of him as an object or a tool and who let him get shotgun occasionally. And Sam… well, Sam knew about his- her gender expression. 

Five smiled at her reflection, hands shaking slightly as she tucked her hair behind her ears. She could make short hair work with her face shape and still look like a woman. Taking a deep breath, she pursed her lips and applied her Earth Angel coloured lip gloss before smiling. She was pretty, she thought, wiping the lip gloss off her teeth. That was the word for it, yeah. 

Five had been secretly hoarding make-up since she had been staying with Dean and Sam, trying to find enough to make herself like pass as a woman. Since her body was so much younger than Five really was, her face was soft enough to look like a girl's. 

Caught up in her appearance, Five didn't realize that the motel bathroom's door had opened until Dean had walked in. He wolf whistled, leaning against the door frame as he looked Five up and down. 

Five jumped and stumbled away from the mirror, shoving the makeup into her jacket pockets. "What? Dean, I-"

He held up his hand. "Nah man, I don't care about your weird gay thing."

Five laughed nervously and rubbed the back of her neck. "It's just- I'm not gay, I'm-" she sighed and took a deep breath. "I'm a girl…?" It came out sounding like a question. 

Dean raised his eyebrows. "You're what now?"

"I'm a girl," Five repeated, her voice more even. "Like a woman. I'm transgender."

"Not with that makeup you're not." He reached over and wiped away a trace of lip gloss on Five's face. "There you go."

She blinked. "You're not uncomfortable with it or…?"

Dean shrugged, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. "Why would I? Oh, does Sam know?"

Five nodded and laughed, playing with her hair. "Yeah, he's known for a while. Found me trying to…" she blushed slightly. "trying to stuff a bra…"

Dean chuckled. "Yeah that sounds like you. I've got some bras that you could have," he offered. "Might have to duct tape them tighter because you're the smallest human alive."

She laughed, straightening her shirt and dabbing at her eyes. "That's- that means a lot to me, Dean, I-"

He shushed Five. "Hey, hey, hey. No chick flick moments. You're a lady, we don't need to cry about it."

She rubbed at her eyes with her sleeves and Dean punched her arm gently. "Explains why you shoot like a girl, anyways."

Five nodded, smiling her usual half smile. "Alright, Winchester. Let's go kill a… thing."

Dean rolled his eyes. "A rawhead, Five. We're gonna kill a rawhead."

"Sounds like a sex move," She mused, pulling on her jacket. 

"It's a creature that eats pigs, goats and- if it gets big enough- it'll eat children and people," Dean explained, gesturing to the door. 

"Huh. Gross."

"It doesn't have skin and the corpses it eats become a part of its body."

"Very gross. Super gross."

The abandoned house was very, very extra creepy when they parked the Impala outside. The darkness did not add to the general feeling of comfort.

They got out of the car and opened the trunk. Dean pulled out three tasers and held them out to Sam and Five. "Pick your poison, ladies."

They each grabbed one, Five looking way too happy to be given something that shot out wires that electrocuted monsters. 

"What do you got those amped up to?" Sam asked, turning it over in his hands. 

"A hundred thousand volts."

"Damn."

Five cackled. "That's enough to kill almost any animal. Or human. You could zap someone's face open."

"Yeah, I want this rawhead extra fuckin' crispy. And remember, you only get one shot with these things. So make it count." Dean gave Five a pointed look. "And don't have too much fun." 

Sam and Dean moved down basement stairs with Five in front of them, stun guns and flashlights in hand. She was absolutely exuberant. 

"What's wrong with you?" Dean asked quietly. 

Five beamed. "I'm excited to hunt something. Where I'm not tied to a tree with a broken nose."

"At least your nose healed nice enough." 

She scowled at Dean. "My nose is adorable as fuck."

Hearing a noise, they move toward a cupboard at the bottom of the stairs. 

Dean stepped by the side of the door. "On three."

Sam nodded and raised his gun, pointing it at the cupboard.

"One. Two. Three-" Dean swung open the door to reveal a young boy and girl crouched inside, covering their ears.

Five crouched down in front of them. "Is it still here?" She whispered and the children nodded. "Ok. Grab your sister's hand, come on, we gotta get you out of here. Let's go, let's go." She was shockingly good at talking to children for a murder obsessed and blood thirsty old woman. 

The boy grabbed his sister's hand and climbed out of the cupboard, following Sam. He started to take the children upstairs until a hand grabbed his legs, bringing Sam down hard on the stairs. The children screamed and ran out of the basement. 

"Sam!" Dean yelled, ducking behind Five and shooting his stun gun. The wires fell short of the hand on the stairs. "Sam, get 'em outta here!"

Five rolled her eyes and threw her gun to Dean. "Aim next time!" 

Sam ran up the stairs, leading the children out of sight. 

Dean ducked around the stairs on high alert, searching for the rawhead. Five shone her flashlight into the corners, jaw tightening and eyes shining with a strange murderous glare. She cringed as her Converse sank into a muddy brown puddle that smelled like death. 

A horrifying skinless creature tinged pink with blood leapt out of the darkness and shoves Dean backwards. He fell backwards into a puddle, losing his gun and flashlight in the dark and the wet. 

Five yelled in shock. "Ew! Why does it look like that?" She panicked, trying to shoot the rawhead. 

Dean, scrambled across puddles of water to grab the taser and shot the rawhead. The creature made a snarl of pain as electricity moved through it and the water Dean was in, electrocuting them both. They both shook and twitched, the creature making horrifying sounds and Dean losing consciousness.

"Dean!" Five yelled, running towards him before stopping herself. 

At the sound of her scream, Sam ran down the stairs and saw Dean in the corner, unmoving and eyes glassy.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, running over and half lifting him Dean, holding his face. "Dean, hey. Hey."


	8. White People Are Crazy

The hospital receptionist smiled. "Sir, I'm so sorry to ask. There doesn't seem to be any insurance on file."

"Right. Uh, ok." Sam removed a card from his wallet and handed it to her.

She took the card and glanced at it. "Okay, Mr. Burkovitz."

Sam saw two cops waiting by the doorway and walked over.

"Look, we can finish this up later," the first cop said. 

"No, no, it's okay," Sam said quickly. "We were just taking a shortcut through the neighborhood. And, um, the windows were rolled down, we heard some screaming when we drove past the house, and we stopped. Ran in."

"And you found the kids in the basement?" The cop asked. 

"Yeah."

"Well, thank God you did." The second cop said. 

Sam noticed the doctor who had admitted Dean and approached him. "Hey, Doc. Is he…"

"He's resting."

"And?"

"The electrocution triggered a heart attack. Pretty massive, I'm afraid. His heart…" the doctor paused. "It's damaged."

"How damaged?"

"We've done all we can. We can try and keep him comfortable at this point. But, I'd give him a couple weeks, at most, maybe a month."

Sam laughed nervously and shook his head. "No, no. There's, there's...gotta be something you can do, some kind of treatment."

"We can't work miracles. I really am sorry."

Sam approached the door of Dean's room and opened the door slowly. "Hey Dean, how are you feeling?"

Dean was lying in bed and watching TV with Five curled up in a chair sleeping. He looked- for lack of a better word- like death. He was pale with dark circles under his eyes and shaky hands.

Dean looked up at Sam, his voice sounding weak. "Have you ever actually watched daytime TV? It's terrible."

Sam shook his head and sighed. "I talked to your doctor."

His brother's eyes were back on the tv. "That fabric softener teddy bear. Oh, I'm gonna hunt that little bitch down." 

Five's head lolled against Dean's shoulder, drooling slightly. 

"Dean," Sam sighed. 

Dean looked up, pushing Five's head off him so it hit the wall and she woke up. 

"Hm?" She mumbled, looking around. 

Dean sighed and clicked the TV off. "Yeah. All right, well, looks like you're gonna leave town without me."

"What are you talking about? We're not gonna leave you here." Sam said. 

Five raised her eyebrows and leaned forward. "You will come with us. You are going to come with us away from this stupid town." 

Dean sighed and turned to his brother. "Hey, you better take care of that car. Or, I swear, I'll haunt your ass."

"I don't think that's funny," Sam huffed. 

"Oh, come on, it's a little funny." There was the hint of a smile on Dean's face. 

Five shook her head and there was a long silence. Sam looked down at his lap, fighting tears and she patted his arm gently.

Dean sighed and leaned forward. "Look, Sammy, what can I say, man, it's a dangerous gig. I drew the short straw. That's it, end of story."

"Don't talk like that, alright?" Sam pleaded. "We still have options."

His brother laughed sadly. "What options? Yeah, burial or cremation. And I know it's not easy. But I'm gonna die. And you can't stop it."

"Watch me."

Five was shaking slightly on a motel bed surrounded by pages of research about heart care and electrocution that she was flipping through frantically. "Dean's- Dean- so how are we- we need to fix this-" 

"I really don't think cocaine was a great idea," Sam said, dialing on his phone. 

"This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 866-907-3235. He can help," the voicemail said in his father's voice. 

Sam took a deep breath and rubbed at his eyes, fighting tears. "Hey, Dad. It's Sam. Uh...you probably won't even get this, but, uh...it's Dean. He's sick, and uh...the doctors say there's nothing they can do. Um...but, uh, they don't know the things we know, right? So, don't worry, cause I'm uh...gonna do whatever it takes to get him better. Alright...just wanted you to know."

Five sniffled, rubbing at her nose and shaking her head. "Fuck your dad. Your dad is the worst. The worst. The worst, the-" she cut herself off with a sneeze and glanced down at the blood on her hands. 

Sam hung up, tossed his phone on the bed and sat there silently. There was a knock on the door and he looked up quickly, tears in his eyes. 

Five bounced to her feet and opened the door to find Dean leaning against the jam, looking terrible. "Dean! Dean, hey! Hey Dean!" 

Sam got up, surprised, happy and confused all at once. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I checked myself out," Dean said, shrugging and walking into the room. 

"What, are you crazy?" Sam asked. 

Dean staggered into the room, clinging to the wall. "Well, I'm not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren't even hot."

Five cackled. "My fake mom was a nurse. Not hot, not hot. Well she was pretty. Pretty in a mom way, you know?" 

Dean shrugged and sat down on the bed, picking up one of the pieces of paper. "Your handwriting is awful, Five."

She wiped the blood off her upper lip. "Yep, I'm- I'm pretty high."

Sam rolled his eyes and shut the door behind his brother, locking it. "You know, this whole I-laugh-in-the-face-of-death thing? It's crap. I can see right through it."

Dean laughed. "Yeah, whatever, dude. Have you even slept? You look worse than me. You look worse than Five and she's on… God, what are you on?"

Five looked up from the description of heart valves she was copying down with shaky hands so bad that everything was blurring together. "Cocaine, cocaína, blow, coke, line, white rock- you know how it is."

"Right," Sam said after a few seconds, sitting down across from Dean. "I've been scouring the Internet for the last three days. Calling every contact in Dad's journal. Five hadn't slept since we got out of the hospital."

"For what?" Dean asked. "Also go to sleep, Five." 

She shook her head. "Can't. Can't stop."

"For a way to help you," Sam said, sounding a bit exasperated. "One of Dad's friends, Joshua- he called me back. Told me about a guy in Nebraska. A specialist."

"You're not gonna let me die in peace, are you?" Dean sighed, rubbing at his eyes.

"I'm not gonna let you die, period. We're going." Sam confirmed. 

* * *

Sam drove the Impala down a bumpy gravel road covered in mud, approaching a white circus tent set up in a field. 

People made their way toward the tent across the very muddy ground, many of them older and on walkers or helped by others. Sam got out and walked around to the passengers side to help Dean. Five jumped out of the car, falling into a puddle of mud and angrily wiping off her very shoplifted skirt. Dean opened his door and looked around, noticing a sign next to the tent that read "The Church of Roy LeGrange. Faith Healer. Witness The Miracle."

Dean grimaced, starting to pull himself out of the car and Sam instantly tried to help.

"I got ya."

"I got it," Dean huffed, pushing his brother away. "Man, you are a lying bastard. Thought you said we were going to see a doctor."

"I believe I said a specialist. Look, Dean, this guy's supposed to be the real deal," Sam said hopefully.

Dean rolled his eyes. "I can't believe you brought me here to see some guy who heals people out of a tent."

Five laughed and shoved her hands into her skirt pockets. "I'll give it to him. When white people go crazy, they really go crazy." 

An elderly woman with an umbrella frowned at her. "Reverend LeGrange is a great man, boy."

Dean smiled weakly. "Yeah, that's nice."

Five scowled, kicking her boot in the mud. "I'm probably older than her…"

They walked past an angry man remonstrating with a cop.

"I have a right to protest! This man is a fraud. And he's milking all these people out of their hard-earned money." The man protested angrily. 

"Sir, this is a place of worship," the cop said, taking his arm. "Let's go. Move it."

"I take it he's not part of the flock," Dean noted. 

Sam shrugged. "When people see something they can't explain, there's controversy."

"I mean, come on, Sam, a faith healer?"

"Maybe it's time to have a little faith, Dean," his brother offered. 

"You know what I've got faith in? Reality. Knowing what's really going on." Dean huffed. 

"Actually!" Five said excitedly. "That's not the definition of faith, faith is-"

"How can you be a skeptic? With the things we see everyday?" Sam asked. 

"Exactly. We see them," Dean echoed. "We know they're real."

"But if you know evil's out there, how can you not believe good's out there, too?" Sam protested, stumbling over his words. 

"I think we've all seen what evil does to good people," Five offered. 

"Maybe God works in mysterious ways," a pretty girl next to them offered. 

Five looked her up and down. "Maybe he does. I think you just turned me around on the subject."

"Yeah, I'm sure," she laughed. 

Five held out her hand. "Fi- Grace Hargreeves. This is Sam and that's Dean."

She took Five's hand. "So, if you're not a believer, then why are you here?"

"Well, apparently Sam here believes enough for all of us," Dean offered. 

An older woman approached Layla and put her arm around her shoulders. "Come on, Layla. It's about to start."

Layla smiled at Sam and Dean and moved inside the tent.

Dean glanced after her. "Well, I bet you she can work in some mysterious ways."

Five rolled her eyes. "Perv. Anyways, I'm calling dibs."

Dean poked her in the head. "You look like a munchkin in a cowgirl costume, so yeah, no."

She scowled, straightening her lacy skirt and flannel top. "I'm hot, you dumb fuck. You look like a corpse."

Sam made a weird noise in his throat and Five turned around. "Shit, Sam, I- sorry."

They entered the tent in silence. The sign at the entrance read "Welcome All Faiths. True Believers Revival" and Five cringed. "Where's the kool aid, huh?"

The tent was full of people finding seats and had a small stage at the front with a lectern with candles on it. Dean looked around, tilting his head to the corner. Sam and Five followed his gaze to a security camera and frowned slightly. 

"Yeah, peace, love, and trust all over," Dean muttered, starting to take a seat in the back but Sam put an arm around him and moved him toward the front. 

"Come on," Sam said. 

"Don't! What are you doing?" Dean asked, trying to pull away. "Let's sit here."

"We're sitting up front." 

"What? Why?" Five asked, tracking mud through the tent. 

Sam moved Dean up the aisle. "Come on."

"Oh, come on, Sam," he huffed. 

"You alright?" 

"This is ridiculous." Dean slapped Sam's hands away. "I'm good, dude, get off me."

Sam let go and pointed to three empty seats behind Layla and her mother. "Perfect."

Five rolled her eyes. "Yeah, perfect."

Sam tried to help Dean sit before he smacked his hands away irritably. Five huffed, plopping into the aisle seat and manspreading.

Dean poked her leg. "You look like a dude." 

She scowled and opened her legs further, raising his eyebrows. 

Onstage a blind man wearing sunglasses, Roy Legrange, was helped to the lectern by a woman.

"Each morning, my wife, Sue Ann, reads me the news. Never seems good, does it?" He asked.

The crowd agreed with him. 

"Seems like there's always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act," Roy continued. "But, I say to you, God is watching."

The crowd murmured in agreement. Five and Dean both said nothing. 

"God rewards the good, and He punishes the corrupt," Roy said. 

More cheering and agreement from the crowd. 

"It is the Lord who does the healing here, friends," he continued. "The Lord who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into people's hearts."

"Yeah, and into their wallets," Dean muttered to Five, who snorted. 

"You think so, young man?" Roy asked.

The crowd immediately fell silent.

"Sorry," Dean said quickly. 

Roy chuckled. "No, no. Don't be. Just watch what you say around a blind man, we've got real sharp ears."

The crowd laughed.

"What's your name, son?" He asked. 

"Dean."

"Dean." Roy smiled, nodding. "I want- I want you to come up here with me."

The crowd clapped, except for Layla, her mother and Five. Sue Ann moved to centre stage next to her husband Roy, smiling at Dean.

He shook his head. "No, it's ok."

"What are you doing?" Sam whispered. 

"You've come here to be healed, haven't cha?" Roy asked. 

Dean hesitated. "Well, yeah, but uhh…"

The crowd clapped and made encouraging noises.

"...maybe you should just pick someone else."

Sam stared at Dean like he's insane and Five poked his side. The crowd clapped loudly.

"Oh, no. I didn't pick you, Dean, the Lord did," Roy encouraged. 

The crowd was getting more excited.

"Get up there!" Sam exclaimed.

Dean reluctantly got to his feet and moved toward the stage, stumbling awkwardly. Sue Ann moved to assist and stood him next to Roy.

"You ready?" He asked. 

"Look, no disrespect, but ahh," Dean said awkwardly, stumbling over his words. "I'm not exactly a believer."

Roy smiled. "You will be, son. You will be." He turned to the crowd. "Pray with me, friends."

The crowd lifted their arms up and joined hands with each other. Roy lifted his hands to the air, then placed one on Dean's shoulder and the other on the side of his head.

"Alright now. Alright now," Roy murmured.

Dean's eyes glazed over as his knees weakened and he sank to his knees, Roy's hand still on his head. Dean wobbled, his eyes rolling back in his head as he slipped off the stage and to the floor. 

Sam jumped out of his chair and ran to the stage. "Dean!" 

Five stared at the stage in shock. "What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck-" 

The crowd is clapping excitedly

Sam grabbed the front of Dean's hoodie and pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. Dean's eyes opened and he gasped, coughing.

"Hey, hey, Dean," Sam said, shaking Dean gently. 

Dean blinked groggily and looked up. Five and Sam were both crouching next to him, trying to rouse him out of whatever was happening. Roy was standing above him, hands out from his sides, palms up, looking happy in a very creepy way. Standing behind Roy was a tall man in a black suit with white hair, very white skin and extremely wrinkled, looking slightly out of focus. He stared at Dean, then turned away and vanished.


	9. Reaper Aw Man

"So, you really feel okay?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, my nose stopped bleeding yesterday." Five flipped through one of the hospital waiting room magazines. "Huh. Paris Hilton got a DUI."

"I feel fine, Sam," Dean huffed. "And you really need to stop doing that shit, Five. Cocaine, really?"

She shrugged, checking the horoscopes in the back of the magazine. 

Dean's doctor entered the room reading paperwork. "Well, according to all your tests there's nothing wrong with your heart. No sign there ever was. Not that a man your age should be having heart trouble, but still, strange things happen."

"What do you mean, strange?" Dean asked quickly. 

"Well, just yesterday, a young guy like you, twenty-seven, athletic. Out of nowhere, heart attack," the doctor explained. 

"Huh. Well, thanks, Doc."

"No problem," the doctor said as he left the room. 

Dean turned to Sam. "That's odd."

"Maybe it's a coincidence," Sam offered. "People's hearts give out all the time, man."

Five scoffed. "Twenty seven year old's hearts though? Bitch please." 

Sam sighed. "Look, guys, do we really have to look this one in the mouth? Why can't we just be thankful that the guy saved your life and move on?

"Because I can't shake this feeling, that's why." Dean huffed, pulling his jacket on. 

Five put down the magazine. What feeling?

"When I was healed, I just…" He sighed and fiddled with his sleeve. "I felt wrong. I felt cold. And for a second...I saw someone. This, uh, this old man. And I'm telling you, it was a spirit."

"But if there was something there, Dean, I think I would've seen it, too. I mean…" Sam hesitated and looked at Five. "I've been seeing an awful lot of things lately."

"Well, excuse me, psychic wonder," Dean huffed. "But you're just gonna need a little faith on this one. Sam, I've been hunting long enough to trust a feeling like this."

"Yeah, alright," Sam sighed. "So, what do you wanna do?"

"I want you to go check out the heart attack guy. I'm gonna visit the reverend with Five." He looked at Five. "You wanna visit a weirdo?"

She shrugged. "Alright, Winchester."

Roy sat down on an old fancy couch across from Dean and Five. She smiled politely and straightened her dress. "Your house is lovely."

Sue Ann smiled at Five, setting a glass of water on the table next to her. "Thank you, dear." 

Dean smiled at Sue Ann. "I feel great. Just trying to, you know, make sense of what happened."

"A miracle is what happened. Well, miracles come so often around Roy." She said sweetly, smiling at her husband. 

Dean turned to him. "When did they start? The miracles."

"Woke up one morning, stone blind. Doctors figured out I had cancer. Told me I had maybe a month. So, uh, we prayed for a miracle. I was weak, but I told Sue Ann, 'You just keep right on praying.' I went into a coma. Doctors said I wouldn't wake up, but I did. And the cancer was gone," Roy explained, taking off his sunglasses to reveal white eyes. "If it wasn't for these eyes, no one would believe I'd ever had it."

Dean nodded. "And suddenly you could heal people."

"I discovered it afterward, yes. God's blessed me in many ways." 

Sue Ann beamed. "And his flock just swelled overnight. And this is just the beginning."

Five smiled uncomfortably and took a very long sip of her water. 

Dean sat in silence for a few seconds. "Can I ask you one last question?"

"Of course you can." 

"Why? Why me?" He asked. "Out of all the sick people, why save me?"

Roy smiled. "Well, like I said before, the Lord guides me. I looked into your heart, and you just stood out from all the rest."

Five coughed on her water and leaned forward. "What did you see in his heart?"

"A young man with an important purpose. A job to do. And it isn't finished." Roy said kindly. 

Dean looked slightly surprised and smiled to himself. 

Sue Ann nodded in agreement. "Plus you have a beautiful family." She smiled at Five. "Especially your son."

She put her drink down. "Hm? Son?"

Sue Ann sat down across from her. "Or nephew?"

Dean patted Five's shoulder. "She's my, uh- niece. New to womanhood."

She laughed lightly and punched his arm. "I might be new to womanhood but you've never been a man."

Sue Ann smiled tightly. "I see."

Five's stomach clenched uncomfortably. She knew there would be people who didn't understand or respect her identity but she didn't expect it to be so soon or right in front of Dean. Five adjusted her bra, trying to emphasize her non-existent chest before grabbing Dean's arm. "We should go. We should really go."

He picked up on her discomfort and nodded, getting to his feet. "We should, we've got a lot of… family things to do."

Five nodded, following Dean to the door as Sue Ann smiled. "You boys have a good day."

Five shuddered as they closed the front door behind them. "God, that was- Layla, hi!" She noticed the girl and her mother from the tent climbing up the porch steps. 

Layla smiled. "Grace, Dean, hey."

"Hey." Dean raised his hand in a casual wave. 

"How you feeling?" She asked concernedly. 

Dean shrugged. "I feel good. Cured, I guess. What are you doing here?"

Layla glanced back at her mother. "You know, my mom, she wanted to talk to the reverend."

Sue Ann opened the front door and came onto the porch. Five quickly ducked away, trying not to be noticed. 

"Layla?" Sue Ann asked. 

"Yes, I'm here again," she said, voice barely above a whisper. 

The reverend's wife smiled sadly. "Well, I'm sorry, but Roy is resting. He won't be seeing anyone else right now."

"Sue Ann, please," Layla's mother begged. "This is our sixth time, he's got to see us."

”Roy is well aware of Layla's situation. And he very much wants to help just as soon as the Lord allows. Have faith, Mrs. Rourke," Sue Ann said before going back inside and closing the door behind her. 

Mrs. Rourke stared at the door then turned, glaring at Dean. "Why are you still even here? You got what you wanted."

"Mom. Stop." Layla said, taking her mother's arm. 

"No, Layla, this is too much. We've been to every single service. If Roy would stop choosing these strangers over you. Strangers who don't even believe. I just can't pray any harder," Mrs. Rourke huffed. 

Five took a step towards her. "Yeah, because everyone who isn't a Christian deserves to die, huh?"

Dean grabbed her shoulder to stop Five from getting in Mrs. Rourke's face. Even though her skills came in handy, Five's temper regularly got the best of her. "Layla, what's wrong?"

Layla hesitated before speaking. "I have this thing…"

Her mother cut across her. "It's a brain tumor. It's inoperable. In six months, the doctors say.."

Layla put a hand on her mother's shoulder, stopping her. "Alright, mom."

Five froze and mumbled an apology before stepping back to stand next to Dean. 

"I'm sorry." He offered. 

Layla shrugged. "It's okay."

Mrs. Rourke took her daughter's hands in hers. "No. It isn't," she said, squeezing Layla's hands. She dropped them and turned to Dean. "Why do you deserve to live more than my daughter?"

Five gave Mrs. Rourke a withering look as she left with Dean. 

She stayed pissed the entire drive back to the motel, muttering curses under her breath as she unlocked the door before flopping onto the bed. Dean entered behind Five, throwing his keys on the bed and beginning to take off his jacket. Sam looked up from his laptop when the door closed. 

"What'd you find out?" Dean asked, throwing his jacket onto Five. 

She made a small grunt and pushed the heavy leather off her. 

Sam sighed. "I'm sorry."

Dean looked concerned. "Sorry about what?"

"Marshall Hall died at 4:17."

Dean and Five both blinked, the former looking stunned. "The exact time I was healed," he said. 

Sam nodded. "Yeah. So, I put together a list of everyone Roy's healed, six people over the past year, and I cross-checked them with the local obits. Every time someone was healed, someone else died. And each time, the victim died of the same symptom LeGrange was healing at the time."

Five snapped her fingers, pointing at Sam. "I knew he was a freak. Who else would marry a bitch like that?" 

Dean held his hand up to quiet her. "Someone's healed of cancer, someone else dies of cancer?"

Sam nodded. "Somehow. LeGrange...he's trading a life for another."

Dean paled slightly. "Wait, wait, wait. So, Marshall Hall died to save me?"

His brother sighed, looking upset. "Dean, the guy probably would've died anyway. And someone else would've been healed."

Five got up and sat down on the bed closest to them, putting her hand on Dean's arm. "Yeah. At least you're alive."

He pulled his arm away from Five. "You two never should have brought me here." 

"Dean, I was trying to save your life," Sam protested. 

"But, Sam, some guy is dead now because of me."

"Because of Roy and his shitty wife, actually," Five interjected. 

"I mean, you're not wrong," Sam agreed. "The thing I don't understand is how is Roy doing it? How's he trading a life for a life?"

Dean shook his head, getting to his feet. "Oh he's not doing it. Something else is doing it for him."

Five propped her head up with her hands. "What do you mean?" 

He had started pacing the room. "The old man I saw on stage… I didn't want to believe it, but deep down I knew."

Sam was very confused. "You knew? What are you talking about, Dean?"

"There's only one thing that can give and take life like that," Dean said, pausing for a few seconds. 

"And?" Five asked, snapping her fingers. 

"We're dealing with a reaper."


	10. Come On Baby, Don't Fear The Reaper

They sat in silence for a few seconds before Sam spoke up. "You really think it's THE Grim Reaper? Like, angel of death, collect your soul, the whole deal?"

"No no no, not THE reaper, A reaper," Dean clarified. "There's reaper law in pretty much every culture on earth, it goes by hundreds of different names, it's possible that there's more than one of them."

"But you said you saw a dude in a suit," Five pointed out, licking the edge of a joint she was rolling. 

"What, you think he shoulda been working with the whole black robe thing? Sam, you said it yourself that the clock stopped right? Reapers stop time. And you can only see 'em when they're coming at you which is why I could see it and you couldn't."

"Maybe," Sam said after a few seconds. 

"There's nothing else it could be Sam. The question is how is Roy controlling the damn thing?"

"That cross." Sam started sifting through a pile of papers. 

"What?" Five asked, grabbing one of his pens off the table. 

"There was this cross, I noticed it in the church and I knew I had seen it before." He looked through some papers and snorted, holding a card up to Dean and Five. "Here."

Dean leaned in and took the card. "A Tarot?"

"It makes sense," Sam pointed out. "A tarot dates back to the early christian era right, when some priests were still using magic? And a few of them veered into the dark stuff? Necromancy and how to push death away, how to cause it?"

Five raised her eyebrows as she packed her joint with the pen. "Religion is so wild, man."

"Definitely," Dean agreed. "So Roy's using black magic to bind the reaper?"

"If he is, he's riding the whirlwind. It's like putting a dog leash on a great white."

Five twisted the end of her joint before putting it in an old mint container. "You can't trust a man named Roy. That's the worst name I've ever heard, his parents have got to be batshit." 

Sam gave her a look. "Said Number Five."

Five laughed, pulling more joint paper out of her coat pocket. "Yeah, and my parents are shit, I can admit that. So how do we stop Roy?" 

Dean gave her a look. "You know how."

She smiled darkly the same time Sam sighed. 

"Wait, what the hell are you talking about Dean, we can't kill Roy."

"Sam, the guy's playing God, he's deciding who lives and who dies. That's a monster in my book."

"No. We're not going to kill a human being Dean. We do that, we're no better than he is," Sam protested, sighing and pushing his hair back. 

Five shrugged. "Nothing wrong with a little homicidium."

He stared at her. "I- just because you know Latin doesn't mean you're right! We can't kill a person!" 

"Ok, we can't kill Roy, we can't kill death," Dean huffed. "Any bright ideas college boy?"

Ok. uh...If Roy's using some kind of black spell on the reaper, we gotta...figure out what it is. And how to break it.

The next day, the Impala scraped down the badly gravelled and potholed road again, passing a sign that says Service Today. 

"If Roy's using a spell, there might be a spell book," Sam said, lifting Five over a puddle outside her door after he parked. 

"See if you two can find it." Dean said, looking at his watch. "Hurry up too, the service starts in fifteen minutes. I'll try to stall Roy."

The same man protesting the last service held out a leaflet to Dean. "Roy LeGrange is a fraud. He's no healer."

He took it. "Amen Brother."

"You keep up the good work," Sam agreed.

"Thank you." The man smiled awkwardly at Five, who held up the vulcan salute. 

Five minutes later, Five and Sam were hiding behind the bushes behind Roy's house, waiting for him to leave. Almost instantly, he came down the stairs, assisted by Sue Ann on one arm and a dark haired man the other. The two hunters sat there in silence until they left. 

Sam started to climb in a window before Five jumped past him, instantly appearing inside. He huffed and climbed inside after her. 

"Wish I could do that instead of my visions," Sam mumbled, hauling his legs in behind him. 

Five smiled and straightened her shirt. "I know, everyone wants to be me." 

Sam laughed and started searching the house with her. Five ran her finger on the spines of all the books on the bookshelves until she spotted the only book that doesn't have dust on the shelf in front of it. "Too cliche to hide it on a bookshelf?" 

Sam looked up from the desk he was digging through. "Probably."

Five pulled out the Encyclopedia of British History and flipped through it, finding nothing, before she realized there was another, smaller book, hidden on the bookshelf behind the larger one. "Oh ho ho, you wild motherfuckers."

She opened the book, flipping through it for things of interest. A picture of a skeleton reaper and a wooden cross jumped out at Five. "Hey Sam, is this the cross?" 

Sam looked up and took the book from her. "Yeah, that's it." A few newspaper clippings fell out of the book. 

Five bent down and picked them up. They were paperclipped together in pairs, obituaries with miscellaneous articles. Marshall Hall was an openly gay teacher, a woman was running to raise money for an abortion clinic, someone local musician came out as nonbinary and died three days later and finally, the man handing out leaflets in front of the tent.

She held it out to Sam. "Someone's in trouble." 

Dean was walking discreetly through the side aisle of the tent when his phone rang. He answered it quickly. "What have you got?"

"Roy's choosing victims he sees as immoral. And I think I know who's next on his list. Remember that protestor?" Sam asked. 

"What, the guy in the parking lot?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we'll find him," Sam reassured. "But you can't let Roy heal anyone, alright?"

Dean hung up and moved further toward the front of the tent, sticking to the shadowy part of the tent. 

"Layla. Layla Rourke, come up here child," Roy called out, causing Dean's stomach to clench. 

The crowd burst into pleased applause. Layla, stunned, looked around then rose to hug her mother. "Mum. Thank you."

"I love you child," Mrs Rourke whispered, kissing her daughter's head. 

Dean watched them hug. "Oh man." 

While Sam and Five were outside in the parking lot searching she froze, grabbing Sam's arm. "Layla, they called her name."

He glanced down at her. "What?" 

She nodded, running back to the tent. "She'll listen to me! 

"Layla, listen to me. You can't go up there," Dean said quickly. 

She looked confused. "Why not? We've waited for months!"

"You can't let Roy heal you."

"I don't understand, Roy healed you didn't he? Why can't you let him try?" Layla was really confused now. 

"Cause if you do something bad is going to happen. I can't explain. I just need you to believe me," Dean pleaded. 

While he and Layla were talking, Five ran into the tent, stumbling slightly and panting. She couldn't manipulate spacetime in front of normal people. "Oh fuck- sorry- Layla, you can't-"

Sue Ann held out her hand. "Layla."

"Please," Five begged as she crouched down on the ground panting. "God, I need to work on my cardio." 

Layla stares at the hand Sue Ann held out to her then turned back and stared at her mother, who was standing ringing her hands. Her mother nodded at her. Layla looked at Dean and Five before shaking her head. "I'm sorry."

Dean stared after Layla as she left. "Layla. Layla!"

Sue Ann smiled and put her arm around Layla to take her to the stage. "Dear child!"

The crowd clapped happily.

Roy took Layla's hand. "I knew the Lord was planning this. I knew it was just a matter of time."

Dean, frustrated, moves back to stand near Mrs Rourke. She is crying and covering her face with her hands.

"Pray with me friends." Roy turned to Layla. "I hope you're ready."

"I am." Layla smiled softly, looking enraptured as Roy laid his hands on her. 

Panicking, Five darted to the back of the tent and held her lighter to the white canvas, trying to set it alight. 

Dean stared at her for a few seconds before going with her plan. "FIRE! Hurry, tent's on fire!!"

Layla opened her eyes and looked toward the crowd which had started to rise and evacuate.

Mrs Rourke panicked, moving toward the stage. "NO! No, please. Please don't stop. Reverend, please, please! Please don't stop, please!"

Dean watched helplessly for a moment before leaving the tent. He pulled out his phone and instantly called Sam. "I did it, I stopped Roy."

Sam and the protester looked around the parking lot, the protester standing slightly behind him. "David, I think it's ok."

David looked around at Sam, nodding, then turned back before screaming. "No!"

"Dean it didn't work.The reaper's still coming! I'm telling you, I'm telling you it didn't work. Roy must not be the one controlling this thing."

"Then who the hell is?"

Five was going to try to set another less wet corner of the tent on fire when she spotted Sue Ann beside the stage, facing into the corner and reciting. She dropped the smoking canvas and ran towards the reverend's wife. Grabbing her arm, Five pulled her around roughly. "What the fuck are you doing?" 

Sue Ann gasped and stopped reciting, reaching down to hold a cross on a chain around her neck. The same as the wooden cross Five saw earlier in the house. 

She stared at the much smaller girl and tucked the cross inside her blouse. "Help! Help me!"

Five backed away quickly, stumbling back and falling onto the ground before two cops grabbed her roughly and pulled her away.

They manhandled Five through the entry and dropped her outside, where she fell in a mud puddle and got her jeans soaked. 

"Hey!" Five yelped as Dean helped her up. "This is vintage!" 

Sue Ann followed close behind and gave them both withering looks. "I just don't understand. After everything we did for you. I'm very disappointed in you… Grace, or whatever your name was." 

Dean laughed uncomfortably and stepped in front of Five. "C'mon Sue Ann, she's just a kid. She's got some issues but-"

Sue Ann smiled coldly. "He certainly has some issues," she said, emphasizing the incorrect pronoun before turning to the cops. "You can let him go. I'm not gonna press charges. The Lord will deal with him as He sees fit."

Sue Ann left as the cops turned to Five. "We catch you round here again son, we'll put the fear of God in you, understand?"

Dean took Five's right arm, who's hand was forming a fist. He figured assault charges wouldn't be great. "Yes sir, fear of god. Got it."

The cops gave Five one last look before leaving and she turned to see Layla. 

"Layla?" She asked. 

"Why would you do that, Grace? And it could have been my only chance." Layla sighed, looking down at Five. 

"He's not a healer," Dean protested. 

"He healed you," she said. 

"I know it doesn't seem fair, and I wish I could explain. But Roy is not the answer, I'm sorry."

Layla shook her head sadly. "Goodbye Dean. Grace."

She walked away before turning back to look at Dean and Five. "I wish you luck. I really do."

"Same to you," Dean mumbled and then under his breath said, "You deserve it a lot more than me." 

Layla walked away past where her mother was talking to Roy and Sue Ann.

"Private session tonight, no interruptions. I give you my word, I'll heal your daughter," Roy promised. 

Five gave Dean a look as they walked past behind them to where Sam was waiting. "Guess we've got plans tonight."


	11. Something Wicked Wears Vintage Shoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Attempted murder and transphobia, you know how it be

Sam sat down on the bed across from Five. "So Roy really believes."

"I don't think he has any idea what his wife's doing," Dean said, taking his jacket off. 

"Well, I found this," Sam said and handed the little book to Dean. "It was hidden in their library. It's ancient. Written by a priest who went dark side. There's a binding spell in here for trapping a reaper."

"Must be a hell of a spell," Five observed, lighting one of her many joints.

"Yeah. You gotta build a black altar with seriously dark stuff. Bones, human blood. To cross a line like that, a preacher's wife. Black magic. Murder. Evil."

Five raised her eyebrows. "Sick." 

"Desperate. Her husband was dying, she didn't have anything to save him. She was using the binding spell to keep the reaper away from Roy," Dean said like he understood. 

"Cheating death, literally." Sam flipped to the page with the spell. 

"Yeah but Roy's alive, so why is she still using the spell?" Dean asked, pinching the end of Five's joint to put it out. 

"Right. To force the reaper to kill people she thinks are immoral," Sam said, referencing the pictures in the book. 

"May God save us from half the people who think they're doing God's work." Five glared at Dean and took the book from him, flipping through it until she found the picture of the cross in the book. "Sue Ann had a coptic cross like that and when she dropped it the reaper backed off."

"So you think we gotta find the cross or destroy the altar?" Sam asked. 

Dean shrugged. "Maybe both. Whatever we do we better do it soon, or he's healing Layla tonight."

Once it was dark, they drove back to the tent, the Impala rolling in without lights and stopped.

"That's Layla's car. She's already here." Sam said, pulling the car into park. 

Dean nodded sadly. "Yeah."

"Dean…" His brother said gently. 

"You know if Roy would've picked Layla instead of me she'd be here right now. And if she's not healed tonight she's gonna die in a couple months."

"What's happening to her is horrible. But what are you gonna do? Let somebody else die to save her? You said it yourself Dean, you can't play God."

Five sighed and patted her least favorite Winchester's shoulder. "If she's rich enough, she can die painlessly and high out of her mind."

Dean sat without speaking, then got out of the car. Sam followed, lifting Five out so she wouldn't fall in the mud again. They all approached the tent and peered inside to see Roy speaking to a small group of the faithful, including Layla and her mother.

"Gather round, please everyone, gather round. Come in closer, come on up," Roy said, holding his hands up. 

"Where's Sue Ann?" Dean asked. 

"Probably the house," Five whispered, crouching down so no one would notice her. 

They moved to the house quietly, Five using her spacetime manipulation to reach it in a manner of seconds. 

"Go find Sue Ann, I'll catch up," Dean said, walking back away from the house. 

Sam gave him a look. "What are you gonna...?"

Five spotted the two cops from earlier coming down the stairs and beamed. "Hey!"

The cops looked over, noticing Dean and Five.

"You gonna put that fear of God in me?" Five yelled.

The cops dropped their coffee and ran at her and Dean, who both took off. She cackled, darting back to the parking lot. 

As soon as they're gone, Sam ran up the stairs and checks around the house which was bathed in darkness. He turned back, confused, then spotted light emerging from the cracks of the outside basement entrance. "Nice cliche, Sue Ann."

Outside the tent, Dean silently crept up beside a camper van with Five who was smiling brightly. The cops were on the other side with flashlights.

"You see him?" One cop asked. 

"Nah." The other cop replied.

Dean slowly rose next to the passenger window of the camper van, looking behind him. A large dog jumped at the window, barking wildy and he leapt back. On the other side of the van the cops shine their lights underneath, then at the dog who was still barking. 

"Psycho mutt," the cop mumbled before they both moved away. 

Dean peeked out from behind the camper, followed by Five. He looked around tensely, then sagged against the roof.

"How are you tired?" Five asked, running her hands through her hair and shaking her head. "I fucking love getting chased by cops."

Dean chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Freak."

"Dick," she shot back. 

Back at the house, Sam moved toward the basement entrance, opened the doors and slipped inside.  
He moved as quietly as he could through the basement to a candlelit altar. It was littered with parts of dead animals, blood, horns and there in the center, a photo in the middle of Five, taken from the security camera the first time they were in the tent. Her eyes had been scratched out and her face had been crossed out with what was definitely blood.

Sue Ann spoke up from behind Sam, startling him. "I gave your family life and I can take it away."

Sam's hands were shaking with anger as he tipped over the table the altar was on, then ran at Sue Ann but she was already up the stairs, slamming the hatch behind her. Sam tried to shove it open but there it was already barred shut. He huffed and slammed his shoulder against it again. 

Sue Ann sighed. "Sam, can't you see? The Lord chose me to reward the just and punish the wicked, and your nephew is wicked and he deserves to die just as Layla deserves to live. It is God's will." She smiled coldly. "Goodbye Sam."

Panicking slightly, Sam frantically surveyed the room, eyes landing on a block of wood stuck in the wall. After some effort, he yanked it out from the wall and smashed out a small boarded up window.

Dean and Five started heading toward the tent together after the dog calmed down, Five looking up when some lights went out. She stopped, looking behind her, and watched the line of lights lighting the path go out one by one. 

"Am I the- can you see the lights going out too?" Five asked nervously. 

Dean stopped and looked back. "Huh. Is a power outage wishful thinking?"

"God, I hope," She laughed and turned back to see the reaper walking toward her.

His eyes were dark and sunken, his face wrinkled and pale and the darkness definitely didn't make the reaper look anymore cuddly. 

All the colour drained from Five's face as she stared at the reaper, frozen in place.

"Five?" Dean asked. "Hey, you okay?"

The reaper placed his hand on the side of Five's head and she sank to her knees, convulsing.

"FIVE!" Dean yelled, grabbing her arm.

She was cold to the touch and making a rough coughing noise in her throat as she fell forward, muscles convulsing like Dean's had when he was electrocuted.

Back at the house, Sam finally broke out of the basement, spotting Sue Ann in the lawn where she was holding a cross and chanting. He quickly pushed open the door, grabbed it and threw it aside, breaking a glass bottle of blood.

Sue Ann fell to her knees beside the blood, grabbing at the broken cross. "My God, what have you done!"

"He's not your God," Sam said simply.

The reaper stops what he was doing and looks up. Five falls back into Dean's arms, gasping hard and shivering.

Sue Ann looked up and saw the reaper, who smiled coldly at her. Terrified, she rose and turned to run before she realized the reaper was in front of her instead. He placed his hand on her head, her eyes glazed over and she fell to her knees. After a moment, still smiling, the reaper allowed her to slip to the ground where Sue Ann convulsed once, twice, and died.

Leaving her lying there, Sam turned and went to look for Dean and Five.

Dean made it back to the Impala with Five in his arms just as Sam approached.

"You Ok?" He asked, more directed at the still shaking girl. 

Dean shook his head. "Hell of a week. Someone here had a seizure."

Five laughed weakly. "Hey, we're even now. Saving me from the old man makes up for Dean tryna kill me."

Sam smiled sadly. "Yeah....All right, come on. We should get going."

Back at the hotel in the morning Dean sat on the end of Five's bed, staring at nothing. After her encounter with the reaper, she had spent many hours in bed to regain her strength post almost mortem.

Sam sat on the other bed, watching his brother. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Dean huffed. 

Sam waited a few seconds. "What is it?" He asked, more gently. 

"We did the right thing here, didn't we?"

"Of course we did, Dean. You saved Five. She'd have died in that parking lot if we hadn't broken the spell."

Dean sighed, staring at the floor. "I guess, but it doesn't feel like it." 

A knock at the door stopped them.

"I got it," Sam said, getting to his feet. 

He opened the door as Dean turned to look.

"Hey Layla. Come on in."

"Hey," Layla said softly, stepping into the room. 

Dean quickly got to his feet. "How did you know we were here?"

"Sam...called. He said you...wanted to say goodbye?" It came out like a question.

Dean glanced at Sam, who was at the door, looking sheepish.

"I'm gonna...grab a soda," Sam said awkwardly, closing the door behind him.

Layla glanced at the bed where Five was curled up. "Is she okay?"

"Oh yeah," Dean reassured her. "Her medicine just knocks her out, you know?"

Layla nodded. "So, uh. Where are you going?"

"Don't know yet. Our work kinda takes us all over."

Layla sat there watching Dean in silence for a moment. "You know...I went back to see Roy."

Dean nodded. "What happened?"

Layla sat down on Five's bed. "Nothing. He laid his hands on my forehead but nothing happened."

Dean sat down beside her. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry it didn't work."

"And Sue Ann. She's dead you know? Stroke."

"Yeah I heard. You know Roy's a good man. He doesn't deserve what's happened." Dean looked at Layla gently. "Must be rough. To believe in something so much, and have it disappoint you."

Layla smiled. "You wanna hear something weird?"

Dean turned to look at her, confused. 

"I'm Ok. Really. I guess if you're gonna have faith…" she laughed softly. "You can't just have it when the miracles happen. You have to have it when they don't."

"So what now?"

Layla smiled her usual soft smile. "God works in mysterious ways." She laid her hand on his cheek softly. "Goodbye Dean."

She got to her feet and moved toward the door. Dean closed his eyes for a second, remaining still before getting to his feet. 

"Well...." he cleared his throat as Layla turned back to face him. "I'm not much of the praying type… but… I'm gonna pray for you."

Her eyes shone with unshed tears. "Well… There's a miracle right there." Layla turned and left the room. 

Dean stood there staring at the door.

Five sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "You should have kissed her, man. I would have."


	12. Practically Marriage

Being a hunter was not everything Five had hoped for. Yes, there was the murder and death she was used to, the customary blood spatters and fieldwork and even some beautiful women, dying or otherwise but it wasn't as glamorous as Dean made it out to be.

Five stepped out of a gas station with a plastic bag, visibly cringing. "Never thought I'd have to have a whore's bath in a gas station," she huffed, examining her lip gloss in the Impala's side mirror. 

Sam glanced up from the map he had laid out on top of the car hood. "Good, you're back. Ok, I think I found a way we can bypass that construction just east of here. We might even make Pennsylvania faster than we thought."

Five leaned down next to him, examining the map. "Nice. If I had to sit through another construction zone, I'd kill myself."

DEAN, who had been on the phone with someone for the past few minutes, hung up and looked thoughtful at his cell. "Yeah. Problem is, we're not going to Pennsylvania."

"We what?" Sam asked.

"I just got a call from an, uh, old friend," Dean said in a way that made everyone suspicious. "Her father was killed last night, think it might be our kind of thing."

"What?" Five asked, narrowing her eyes. 

"Yeah. Believe me, she never woulda called, never, if she didn't need us," Dean said, getting into the Impala. "Come on, are you coming or not?"

Apparently they were because a few hours later, the Impala was driving down a rural highway next to a lake. 

"By old friend you mean...?" Sam said, asking the question everyone wanted to know. 

"A friend that's not new," Dean said simply.

Five rolled her eyes exaggeratedly.

"Oh yeah, thanks," Sam said sarcastically. "So her name's Cassie huh? You never mentioned her."

"Didn't I?" Dean asked offhandedly.

There was a long pause, Sam looked at Dean expectantly and Five peeked over at them from the back seat. 

"Yeah, we went out," he answered finally.

"You mean you dated somebody? For more than one night?" The shock is Sam's voice was mostly mockery.

"Am I speaking a language you're not getting here?" Dean snapped. "Dad and I were working a job in Ohio, she was finishing up college. We went out for a coupla weeks."

Five wolfwhistled. "Damn, a few weeks? That's like marriage for you."

Sam gave Dean a pointed look. "And...?"

Dean shrugged slightly, turning back to the road. 

Sam continued. "Look, it's terrible about her dad, but it kinda sounds like a standard car accident. I'm not seeing how it fits with what we do. Which by the way, how does she know what we do?"

Dean looked shifty, hands moving somewhat nervously on the steering wheel.

"You told her. You told her, the secret!" Sam huffed, guessing why his brother was quiet. "Our big family rule number one. We do what we do and we shut up about it. For a year and a half I do nothing but lie to Jessica, and you go out with this chick in Ohio a coupla times and you tell her everything?"

Dean stayed silent, staring straight ahead.

Sam glared at him. "Dean!" 

"Yeah. Looks like."

Five shrugged. "I don't get what the big deal is. You told me."

"That's different, Dean shot you and you're a time traveling girl with teleporting powers or something."

She smiled to herself and leaned back in her seat, oblivious to the discomfort between the two brothers.

A few hours later, Sam, Dean and Five entered the small town's newspaper office.

"Two black people were killed on the same stretch of road in the same way in two weeks," an older black man huffed at an old white man.

"Jimmy, you're too close to this," the white man snapped back. "Those guys were friends of yours. Again, Cassie, I'm very sorry for your loss."

He left the building and Jimmy walked away. Cassie sighed and turned around, looking straight at Dean.

Looking slightly apprehensive, Dean nodded at her and grinned.

She stared at him. "Dean."

"Hey Cassie."

They stare at each other for a long moment, not speaking. Sam watches, smiling to himself and Five stared at Cassie like she'd never seen a person before.

Dean cleared his throat. "This my brother Sam and our uh, friend… Five.

Cassie smiled at Sam, who returned one of his own and waved at Five. Five said nothing, staring at Cassie and her gaze returned to Dean.

"Sorry bout your dad," he said after a few seconds.

"Yeah. Me too," she said, still staying at Dean.

Back at Cassie's house, she carried a tray of tea and cups into the dining room. "My mothers in pretty bad shape. I've been staying with her. I wish she wouldn't go off by herself. She's been so nervous and frightened. She was worried about dad."

"Why?" Dean asked.

Cassie began pouring out cups of tea. "He was scared. He was seeing things."

"Like what?"

She shuddered lightly. "He swore he saw an awful-looking black truck following him."

"A truck," Sam echoed. "Who was the driver?"

Cassie handed them all cups of tea. "He didn't talk about a driver. Just the truck. He said it would appear and disappear. And, in the accident, Dad's car was dented, like it had been slammed into by something big."

Sam took his cup. "Thanks. Now you're sure this dent wasn't there before?"

Dean looked at his cup of tea like he'd never seen tea before and quickly deposited it on a side table. Five completely ignored her cup, still staring at Cassie. 

"He sold cars. Always drove a new one. There wasn't a scratch on that thing. It had rained hard that night. There was mud everywhere. There was a distinct set of muddy tracks leading from dad's car… leading right to the edge, where he went over." Cassie bowed her head and took a deep breath, getting her emotions under control. "One set of tracks. His."

"The first was a friend of your fathers?" Dean asked.

She nodded. "Best friend. Clayton Soames.They owned the car dealership together. Same thing. Dent. No Tracks. And the cops said exactly what they said about dad. He lost control of his car," Cassie set with air quotes around the last sentence.

Dean nodded. "Can you think of any reason why your father and his partner might be targets?"

"No."

"And you think this vanishing truck ran them off the road?" Sam guessed.

She sighed. "When you say it aloud like that… listen, I'm a little skeptical about this… ghost stuff… or whatever it is you guys are into…"

"Skeptical. If I remember, I think you said I was nuts," Dean huffed. 

"That was then."

Five cut in. "Excuse me, but how the hell did Dean date you? Like holy shit, you're so…"

Cassie raised her eyebrows, looking away from Dean. "I'm so…?"

Laughing awkwardly, Five rubbed the back of her neck, ignoring Dean stepping on her foot. "So beautiful. You're way out of his league. Like, miles out of it." 

Sam took a sip of his tea so he'd have something to do with his hands and Dean looked at the floor. 

Cassie smiled slightly and glanced at Dean. "Cute kid you got. Anyways, I just know that I can't explain what happened up there. So I called you."

There was the sound of a door opening and a middle aged white woman entered the room. 

Sam and Dean got to their feet and Cassie went to take her arm.

"Mom, where have you been?" She asked. "I was so…"

"I had no idea you'd invited friends over," her mother said. 

"Oh uh, Mom, this is Dean, a… friend of mine from... college. And his brother Sam and daughter Five," Cassie explained awkwardly. 

Five beamed, always happy to be gendered correctly, especially by an incredibly beautiful woman. 

Cassie's mother nodded. "Well I won't interrupt you."

Dean smiled at her. "Mrs Robinson, we're sorry for your loss. We'd like to talk to you for a minute if you don't mind?"

Mrs Robinson looked slightly affronted. "I'm really not up for that right now," she mumbled as she left the room.

The rest of them stood in silence for a few seconds.

"Daughter…" Five whispered and hugged herself.


	13. Ghost Ships and Relationships

Five was very invested in Cassie's situation. Dean and Sam were too obviously but she was extremely concerned with Cassie's safety. So much so that Five spent the night at Cassie's mother's house with a loaded pistol. She passed out after a few hours in the entrance hall, but Five was confident that Cassie and her mother were safe. 

She was woken up by Cassie knocking on the living room wall. "Morning kid. You hungry?"

Five sat up, setting her gun down on the coffee table. "I, uh, I wouldn't want to put you out of the way but I'd take a cup of coffee."

Cassie nodded and left for the kitchen. She came back a few minutes later, looking flustered and upset. "Look, sorry I gotta go, there was another crash-"

Five was instantly on her feet, grabbing her pistol and tucking it into the back of her jeans. "Alright, let's go."

* * *

The Mayor, Cassie and Five walked among the emergency vehicles parked around the wreck in the field. There was very clearly one set of tire tracks but the damage from the car signalled that it was rammed off the road. 

"Jimmy meant something to this town," the mayor said to Cassie. "He was one of our best. We won't be the same without him."

"Our best seem to be dropping like flies," Cassie said coldly. "Clayton, my father, Jimmy."

Five stood behind her, glaring daggers at the mayor.

"What is it exactly you want me to do?" He huffed. 

"How bout closing this section of road for starters?" Cassie asked, shoving her hands into her pockets. 

"Close the main road. The only road in and out of town?" The Mayor echoed. "Accidents do happen Cassie, and that's what they are. Accidents."

Five narrowed her eyes. "Yeah, three accidents in less than two months, only affecting black men."

Dean and Sam approached from the Impala and stood behind Cassie.

"Did the cops check for additional denting on Jimmy's car, see if it was pushed?" Dean asked, glancing at the wreck. 

The Mayor turned back to Cassie. "Who's this?"

"Dean and Sam Winchester, and uh, Five Hargreeves. Family friends. This is Mayor Harold Todd."

"There's one set of tire tracks. One. That doesn't point to foul play." Mayor Todd repeated. 

"Mayor, the police and town officials take their cues from you. If you're indifferent about…" Cassie started. 

"Indifferent!" He huffed.

"Would you close the road if the victims were white?" She snapped, taking a step towards him. 

"You suggesting I'm racist Cassie? I'm the last person you should talk to like that," he barked at her. 

Five clenched her fists and took a step towards the mayor. "You cannot talk to Do-"

Dean covered her mouth with his hand and pulled Five back. "Calm down, tiger."

"And why is that?" Cassie asked. 

"Why don't you ask your mother." The Mayor walked away, leaving them standing in the field.

* * *

Back in the motel room, Sam was pulling a suit jacket over his dress shirt. "I'll say this for her, she's fearless. Kinda like Five but less… feral."

"Mm-hmm," Dean mumbled, fixing his tie. 

Five rolled her eyes and grabbed Dean's tie, untying it. "Single Windsor's make you look weak. Dress like you want to sell insurance."

Sam grinned. "Bet she kicked your ass a couple of times."

Dean glanced at him then looked down at Five. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Tying a double Eldridge knot so you don't look like a male prostitute," she explained, twisting his tie into a complicated knot. 

"What's interesting is you guys never really look at each other at the same time. You look at her when she's not looking, she checks you out when you look away." Sam smiled wider. "It's just a… just an interesting observation in a.... you know… observationally interesting way."

Laughing, Five tightened Dean's tie and patted his shoulder before jumping down off the bed. "Now you look like not a bitch."

"You think we might have more pressing issues here?" He huffed, pulling away from her. 

"Hey, if I'm hitting a nerve…" Sam offered. 

Dean turned away. "Let's go."

Sam snickered and glanced at Five. "You gonna go back and stalk Cassie?"

She scowled and straightened her top. "I'm not stalking her, I'm making sure she doesn't get murdered. And I'll wait in the car."

* * *

Once Five was satisfied with their ties, Dean and Sam walked down a pier and approached two older men having lunch.

"Excuse me. Are you Ron Stubbins?" Sam asked. 

The white man, Ron, nodded. 

“You were friends with Jimmy Anderson?” Dean resisted the urge to loosen his tie. Apparently, insurance investigators didn’t need to breathe.

Ron glanced at Dean. “Who are you?”

“We're from Mr. Anderson's insurance company. We're just here to dot 'I's' and cross 'T's',” Dean explained.

“We were just wondering, had the deceased mentioned any unusual recent experiences?” Sam asked.

“What do you mean, unusual?”

“Well visions, hallucinations, anything out of the ordinary.”

“It's part of a medical examination kind of thing,” Dean added. “All very standard.”

Ron narrowed his eyes. “What company did you say you were with?”

“All National Mutual. Tell me, did he ever mention seeing a truck? A big black truck?” Dean asked.

“What the hell are you talking about? You even speaking English?” Ron huffed, turning away from them.

Ron’s friend, an older black man, looked up at Dean. “Son this truck, a big scary monster looking thing?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah actually, I think so.”

“Hmm.” He looked off in thought for a few seconds. 

“What?”

“I have heard of a truck like that.”

Sam perked up slightly. “You have? Where?”

“Not where, when. Back in the '60s, there was a string of deaths. Black men. Story goes, they disappeared in a big, nasty, black truck.”

Dean nodded. “They ever catch the guy who did it?”

“Never found him. Hell, not sure they even really looked,” the man huffed. “See there was a time, this town wasn't too friendly to all its citizens.”

“Thank you.” 

As Sam and Dean made their way back down the pier to the Impala, Dean aggressively loosened his tie, almost ripping it off.

He shoved it in his pocket as he got into the driver’s seat. “Truck.”

Five looked up from the Busty Asian Beauties magazine she had found under the backseat. “I knew it.”

Sam got into the passenger’s side. “Keeps coming up, doesn't it?”

“You know, I was thinking. You know the flying dutchman?” His brother asked and Five perked up.

She looked far too excited by this conversation topic. “A ghost ship, infused with the captain  Willem van der Decken 's evil spirit. It was basically part of him.”

Dean nodded. “So what if we're dealing with the same thing? You know, a phantom truck, an extension of some bastard's ghost, re-enacting past crimes.”

“The victims have all been black men.” Sam pointed out.

“I think it's more than that. They all seem connected to Cassie and her family.”

Five had clenched her fists so hard that her hands were shaking. “We need to go back to her house.”

“All right. Well, you work that angle, go talk to her,” Sam said to Dean before shooting Five a concerned look. 

“Yeah, I will if Five stays away.”

Sam smirked. “Oh, and you might also wanna mention that other thing.”

“What other thing?” Dean asked.

“The serious, unfinished business?” His brother suggested.

Dean remained obstinately silent as he started the impala’s engine and Five scowled, going back to her porn magazine. 

Sam laughed. “Dean, what is going on between you two?” 

“All right, so maybe we were a little bit more involved than I said,” Dean grumbled after a few seconds, staring ahead.

Sam stared at Dean expectantly. “Oh, Ok.”

Five peeked over the edge of the magazine, narrowing her eyes.

Dean finally sighed. “OK, a lot more. Maybe. And I told her our secret, about what we do. And I shouldn't have.”

“Ah look man, everybody's gotta open up to someone sometime,” Sam offered.

“Yeah, I don't. It was stupid to get that close. I mean, look how it ended,” Dean huffed.

Sam smiled and Five set the magazine down and stuck her head between the front seats, listening intently.

“Would you stop!” Dean snapped at both of them. 

Sam kept smiling and they both stared at Dean.

“Blink or something!”

“You loved her,” Sam said finally and Five raised her eyebrows.

“Oh God.” Dean looked away from them.

“You were in love with her, but you dumped her,” Sam guessed.

Dean was silent. He stared at the floor of the impala, glanced at Sam and Five, then looked back to the ground.

“Oh wow. She dumped you,” Five said, covering her mouth with one hand.

Dean scowled and started the car. “Sit down, Hargreeves.”


	14. Premarital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uhhh dead people and mentions of sex

Cassie sat down at the desk in the lounge, her curls falling into her eyes before she pushed them away. There was a knock at the door and she got up to answer it. "Dean!"

"Hey."

"Hey. Come on in." She stood back so he could enter the house. 

"So...you busy, or…" Dean started awkwardly. 

"The paper's doing a tribute to Jimmy. I was just going through his stuff… his awards," Cassie laughed sadly. "Trying to find the words."

He followed her into the lounge. "That's gotta be tough."

"For years, this family owned the paper. The Dorians? They had a whites-only policy. After they sold it Jimmy became the first black reporter. He didn't stop ‘til he became editor. He taught me everything…" She drifted off. "Where's your brother and uh, Five?"

Dean shrugged. "Not here."

"All right. So, uh, what brings you here?" Cassie asked, leaning against the wall. 

"Trying to find the connection between the three victims. By the way, did you talk to your mum about what Todd said about not being a racist?" He asked, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. 

"I did. She didn't want to talk about it."

"Right."

Neither of them said anything for a few seconds. 

"So just then, why did you ask where my brother was?" 

"Nothing. Not important," Cassie said simply, tucking her hair behind her ear. 

"Could it be because without him here it's just you and me? Not you, me and Sam which would be easier?" Dean asked.

"It's not easier...Look, I-"

Dean turned away before cutting her off. "No. Forget it. It's fine. We'll keep it strictly business."

Cassie stared at his back. "I forgot you did that."

"Do what?"

"Oh. Whenever we get, what's the word....close? Anywhere in the neighbourhood of emotional vulnerability, you back off," Cassie huffed. "Or make some joke. Or find any way to shut the door on me."

Dean laughed coldly and looked back at her. "Oh, that's hilarious." He walked back to stand in front of Cassie. "See, I'm not the one who took that big final door and slammed it behind me."

"Ok, wait a minute…"

Dean continued. "And I'm not the one who took the key and buried it."

"We done with this metaphor?" She snapped. 

"All I'm saying is I was totally upfront with you back then, and you nailed me for it," He huffed. 

"The guy I'm with, the guy I'm hoping might be in my future, tells me he professionally pops ghosts."

"That's not the words I used!" 

"And that he has to leave, to go work with his father," Cassie continued. 

"I did!"

"All I could think was, If you want out fine, but don't tell me this insane story."

Dean raised his voice and got in her face. "It was the truth Cassie, and I notice it didn't sound insane the minute you thought I could help you."

"Well back then I thought you just wanted to dump me," Cassie said, wilting slightly. 

"Whoa! Now let's not forget who dumped who ok?" 

"I thought it was what you wanted."

"Well, it wasn't."

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Well, you did."

"I'm sorry!" Cassie's voice broke slightly. 

"Yeah me too."

They stared at each other for a few seconds before Dean took a step towards Cassie and ran the back of his knuckles over her cheek. She took his hand and moved closer to Dean before pulling him into a kiss. 

Dean kissed her back somewhat aggressively, cupping her face with one hand while moving to unbutton her shirt with the other. They pulled away from each other after a few minutes, breathing hard. 

"Is this okay?" Dean asked and Cassie nodded. 

A few minutes later, they were in Cassie's bedroom, making out aggressively and both shirtless. Dean lifted her up onto the bed and started unbuttoning her jeans, still kissing. 

Five set her half finished bacon cheeseburger and leaned back in her chair. "And I am done with that," she sighed, unbuttoning the button of her jeans. 

"You eat a lot for someone that small," Sam observed, stealing one of her fries. 

She smacked his hand lightly. "You watch your whore mouth."

Sam snickered and closed his laptop. "So what do you think Cassie and Dean are doing?"

Five cringed. "Probably consummating their marriage."

Sam made a face and went back to his food. "You're really into Cassie, huh?"

She stared at the table for a few seconds before sighing and pushing her hair back. "Yeah, it's… she's really something."

Sam nodded and took a sip of his beer. "Yeah but you barely know her."

Five grabbed his beer from him and took a long sip. "She reminds me of my wife," she said finally. 

He raised his eyebrows. "You have a wife?"

She looked up and pushed her hair out of her eyes. "Had, Sam. I had a wife."

"Oh," Sam mumbled. 

They sat there in silence for a minute and Five cracked open another beer before chugging half of it. 

"She was beautiful," she sighed, staring at a stain on the table. "She was strong and fierce and beautiful and she could kick anyone's ass."

Sam got to his feet and dug through Dean's duffle, pulling out a bottle of Jack Daniels and setting it on the table. He poured himself and Five both a glass of whiskey before sitting back down. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She nodded, taking a long sip of her whiskey. "Dolores. Dolores Hargreeves."

"You almost called Cassie Dolores one time," Sam observed. 

Five laughed sadly and drank more of her whiskey. "She was the best person I could have been with in a wasteland. She could hunt and cook and everything anyone needed to do."

She had started tearing up and refilled her glass. "We were married for forty one years and knew each other for forty nine."

Five stood up and pulled one side of her jeans down to reveal a tattoo of a heart with a dagger through it. "We got stick and pokes for each other."

Sam studied the tattoo closely. "Doesn't that mean heartbreak?" 

"It means sorrows and Dolores means sorrows too. At first it was just a heart but she added the knife on our first anniversary." She explained, pulling her pants up. 

Sam nodded and took a sip from his drink. "That's sweet. I've always wanted to get married."

Five finished her drink and poured herself more whiskey. "Women are so beautiful."

"They are," Sam agreed, rubbing at his eyes. "I just- I was going to marry Jess. I was ring shopping when she died and I…"

She nodded and topped them both off. "I got Dolores' ring off a dead woman I found in a collapsed house. It smelled like rotting flesh for the longest time."

Sam took a sip from his whiskey. "I can't eat cookies anymore. Our whole house smelled like cookies and smoke and death…"

Five poured him more whiskey. "Man, you have gone through some horrendous shit."

He laughed sadly and downed half of his drink. "I have, huh?"

She raised her glass towards Sam. "To Jessica."

"I'll drink to that. To Dolores." He clinked his glass against Five's and they both drank. 


End file.
